


So I Don't Have to Dream Alone

by notaverse



Series: Phoenix Down [9]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dreams and Nightmares, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaverse/pseuds/notaverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lu Han tells Jongin a bedtime story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So I Don't Have to Dream Alone

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** So I Don't Have to Dream Alone  
>  **Fandom:** EXO (sort of fused with Final Fantasy VII, plus some geography and unnamed cameos from FFVIII)  
>  **Series:** Phoenix Down (#9)  
>  **Rating:** R for violence  
>  **Genre:** AU, crossover (sort of)  
>  **Disclaimer:** Not mine, damnit.  
>  **Warnings:** People are attacked by monsters. A lot of blood is shed. Also, contains suicidal ideation, background homophobia and prostitution.
> 
>  **A/N:** 9th in the Phoenix Down series, so please see [Sweet as Honey, Sharp as a Sword](http://archiveofourown.org/works/613355) for explanations. Takes place during [#8](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1087229), while the party are staying at Cosmo Canyon. Written for the hc_bingo square 'isolation'. This was meant to be a quick 5k sidequest about Lu Han's first time being summoned, but nearly 30k later... Title from the lyrics of 'Dream Lover' by Bobby Darin.
> 
> Many thanks to MC for too many reasons to mention! <3

Lu Han's not used to being alone. Not anymore. He'd thought, once, that it was his destiny to live out his life in obscure, empty loneliness, to wither away quietly in a corner and be missed by no one. He's older now, and hopefully wiser...and his destiny is something far weirder than he could ever have imagined. But however it works out, he's not alone, and he never has to be alone again. He's lucky enough to have found his old friends in his new life - all of them reborn to complete what they started in the past. It's what they're meant to do.

Of course, that would be much easier if they were all talking to each other, and it looks like Jongin's not best pleased with him at the moment. It's awkward trying to explain himself with all of them crammed into a single bedroom in Cosmo Canyon (and Zitao asking for details, back in the bookshop). He's not shy about their relationship - this is their second lifetime together, after all, even if he remembers much more about it than Jongin does - but it's actually a relief when Kris tells them to go work it out elsewhere. That's their leader, all about getting them through the rough times with whatever it takes; although Kris is only slowly finding his feet, he's becoming the solid, dependable backbone of the group.

Jongin, for all that he's so tough, is one of the babies, and he sulks like one as he accompanies Lu Han downstairs, out the front door and over to the Cosmo Candle. The fire burns bright all night, lending the town warmth on more levels than merely physical. A couple of middle-aged women share a bottle of wine on the far side, but other than that, the Candle is deserted, and Lu Han sits down far enough from them to keep from being overheard. He doesn't presume to put his arm around Jongin. Jongin's too angry with him for that and even if no injury Lu Han sustains here will stay with him permanently, he'd still rather not have his fingers broken.

The ground here is worn smooth from visitors, and the Candle heats it enough to warm his legs even through his jeans. He's in casual clothing today, not the armour he prefers for battle. The only fight he's got to win tonight is not one to be fought physically. (Not that the prospect of wrestling Jongin with his body instead of his words is an unpleasant one, but they're in public and getting Jongin kicked out of town would hardly help the situation.)

Jongin's not sitting immediately beside him; Lu Han makes no move to close the gap. That move is for Jongin to make - if he wants to.

It's not looking likely right now. "Are you going to tell me the truth?" Jongin asks. "Or are you going to keep things from me again?"

"I'm-" Lu Han begins, but Jongin cuts him off, not bothering to wait for an answer.

"I'm not a little kid! And neither are the others. Everyone made a choice to be here - we could all have walked away, and don't tell me we couldn't. Do you really think anyone would have been scared off by hearing that we might cause the end of the world by coming together?"

"I didn't know what to think," Lu Han says when Jongin finally pauses to take a breath. "I remember some of you better than others. That doesn't mean I know how you'd all react."

"So when were you planning on telling us?"

"Er..." Lu Han hedges, attempting to conceal the fact that he hasn't given it too much thought, holding off while they were still finding the others in the hopes that matters would somehow work themselves out. Which they have done, but not in his favour. "When the time was right?"

Jongin glares at him. Okay, it's not much of an answer. He tries again. "I didn't want to think about it, all right? I think that when the twelve of us are finally all together, we can do amazing things. But we're not at that stage yet, and even I don't remember anything about the three guys we haven't met. If any one of us had decided it wasn't worth the risk..."

"You mean if I decided I wanted no part of it and threw your materia orb in the sea," Jongin says flatly.

"It's good motivation," Lu Han says. "We're apart enough as it is; I don't want to have to come find you again."

Lu Han's got plenty of experience - in this world, at least - but not with relationships, of which he's had a grand total of three across two lifetimes, and two of those involve Jongin. The other one...probably doesn't count, given the circumstances. He's no expert on how things are supposed to go, or what the right thing to say is when you've screwed things up between you. Jongin's in more-or-less the same boat. How they're going to make it all work, Lu Han has no idea. No one writes advice columns telling you what to do when you're trying to maintain a relationship that's so long-distance, you don't even live in the same world.

"You won't. I won't leave you behind." That would be more reassuring if Jongin didn't sound so angry, forcing the words out as if they pained him. "But you have to trust me."

"Of course I trust you-"

"Do you? Ever since we met you've been saying there are things you can't tell me because I have to find out for myself. I showed you things I've never told anyone else about and you dish out little pieces of the truth when it suits you!"

Jongin's past isn't a pretty place to visit. Lu Han knows, now, why he finds it so hard to trust anyone, and it's not been easy for him to overcome that. "Did you ever think maybe I was trying to make it easier on you?"

"I think you were trying to make it easier on _yourself_."

"Jongin-" Lu Han forgets himself for a moment and reaches out a hand, but Jongin swats it away before it can settle on him.

"Don't."

"Sorry." Lu Han has no idea how to make things right. Jongin knows about the prophecy now - it's not like Lu Han can tell him about it again, and that's what started off this fight in the first place. "All I can do is apologise."

"What you can do," Jongin says icily, "is stop hiding behind excuses and distractions and actually tell me about yourself. You knew who I was before we ever met but I don't even know who you are now, never mind who you were before you became a Summon."

"Just a schoolboy," Lu Han says. "It's not a very interesting story."

"Around the fire is the place for sharing stories," Jongin points out. "So how about you let me be the judge of that?"

\-----

Lu Han's new high school is nothing like his old one. Every building in Esthar gleams blue and silver in the sun, all shining surfaces and twinkling lights, a modern marvel of metal and glass held together by the secrets of science. His new school - his new home, for the next four years - blends right in, hiding its function so well he could have gone straight past it, were it not for the precise programming of the city's collection of transporters. As long as he knows where he wants to go, the machines will take him there.

Deling City, while beautifully built, can't even compare, and Lu Han hopes that by transferring to a school on the other side of the world, he's leaving behind everything he definitely won't miss about home.

At first, it seems as though his wish has been granted. He's not the only new student in his grade, so he's not the sole focus of attention, and that makes it easier for him to relax and take his time learning how best to find his place. He likes his classes, and his teachers express their satisfaction with his progress even though he's not a local boy and has therefore been subject to 'inferior' education systems until now. The food's not bad, either. He shares a room with another new boy - though they don't talk much, since both of them are shy with strangers - and while they manage to be friendly enough, they never really get to know each other.

It's when his roommate requests to be transferred to a different room that Lu Han starts to suspect that maybe moving schools has only brought the same old problems to a new continent. He doesn't know it's a request at first. That, he hears from hallway gossip. Nobody tells him directly. No one ever talks to him directly, outside of class, except the faculty. No one's ever mean, and if he asks another student a question, they always answer him politely - and as quickly as possible, before moving away. He doesn't get it. He's friendly, he's honest, he's hardworking...but the only time the other students even acknowledge him as a person is on the football pitch, where he's always picked first for teams.

Not that he ever gets to enjoy it, even when he's on the winning side (which is most of the time). The matches themselves are fun, to be sure, but it's a hollow sort of pleasure when he's the only one not being high-fived, or hugged, or thrown up in the air. (Admittedly, he's in no rush for that last one.) Esthar's a gorgeous city, with shops and museums and monuments to explore, but he has no one to shop with, no one to go out for an ice cream with, no one with whom he can check out the sights and sounds of his new home.

It's a lonely existence. Lu Han is sadly accustomed to keeping his own company, but that doesn't make it any more pleasant for him and no one ever tells him why he seems to be an outsider wherever he goes. All the way up to high school, things had been fine - though he hadn't had any especially close friends, he'd had no shortage of pals both in and out of school. Even the first year of high school had been okay. He'd been well on his way to becoming captain of his grade's football team when the silent treatment had begun - or rather, mostly silent, as the rest of the team had told him in no uncertain terms never to set foot in the locker room again, shortly before refusing to go anywhere near him. Attempts to learn the reason for the sudden cold shoulder had only resulted in trips to the infirmary, and disappointed looks from his parents when he'd come home with another bloody nose.

Now it looks as though his new life will be going the same way, albeit in a slightly more civilised fashion. No one's threatening him, no one's even giving him a second glance - but they're not giving him a first glance either, and he resigns himself to spending the remainder of his time in high school alone. His parents are spending too much money on this school for him to throw it back in their faces, and in any case, there's no guarantee the same thing wouldn't happen somewhere else. At least now that he's without a roommate, there's no one to see him when he returns to his room at night, unhappy and withdrawn, wishing desperately for things to change.

A couple of weeks before his fifteenth birthday, they do, and in ways he could never have predicted.

Disturbed nights are nothing new. Lu Han normally chalks up any sleeping difficulties to too much coffee and too much on his mind. Disturbed days, however, usually come in the form of unexpected tests and people pretending not to notice when he looks around for a free seat at lunch. They don't tend to involve horrifically graphic - and painful - dreams.

The first one hits him at a particularly bad time. His teachers, while nice to him, won't let him out of group projects simply because no one chooses him to be in their groups, and news that he's going to have to work with three of his peers for a month on a history project is not really the way he wants to finish his final class of the day. He's got last period free - his assigned-by-the-teacher groupmates don't - and also a headache, so when he returns to his room, instead of studying, he kicks off his shoes, shrugs out of his blue school blazer, and lies down on his bed. He'll have to meet up with his groupmates later and work out a plan, which is definitely not going to be fun. Might as well enjoy the solitude while he's got it.

It's not quite dusk yet but with the curtains closed, the room is dark enough to keep the light from worsening Lu Han's headache. He shuts his eyes, wishing he'd thought to stop by the school doctor's office on the way back to try to wheedle some painkillers out of her. Too late now. He doesn't fancy his chances of making it off the bed any time soon. In fact, forget the group project, too. They've got a month to do this. If he doesn't show up in the library for their meeting later, big deal - it's not like they could be talking to him any less.

Determined to keep to his bed no matter what, Lu Han entertains the possibility of a nap. Maybe he'll feel better after some sleep. The thought of missing dinner doesn't worry him, not when the very idea of food turns his stomach and the cafeteria would just be one more opportunity to feel like an outsider today. He doesn't need that.

What he _does_ need is a distraction. Only...not the one he gets.

It starts with a fine prickling all over his skin, like he's rolling around naked in a patch of grass and each blade knows exactly where to brush to affect him most. Lu Han wonders if this isn't a simple headache, if he's developing a fever to accompany it. He doesn't feel warm, though; if anything, he's a trifle chilled, and it's a constricting cold, wrapping itself around him, pinning his limbs to his sides and forcing him to take only the shallowest of breaths. If this is some kind of attack, it's like nothing he's felt before. He tries to open his eyes. There should be faint daylight creeping in through gaps in the curtains but there's nothing. The darkness is absolute. Cool, prickly darkness, eating away at him. Lu Han thinks he might go mad if he has to endure it for much longer. His own name rattles around inside his head in a voice that's not his own. The binding cold squeezes tight-

And then, with a pop, he's outside. He blinks, unprepared for the overwhelming brightness of sunlight. This isn't going to help his headache.

_Or maybe it has, because his headache's gone._

No...not _gone_ , exactly. He can still feel it somewhere in the back of his mind, but it's as though it's in someone else's head, a next-door neighbour to his own, close enough to feel the vibrations through the walls but distant enough that if he tries, he can keep it away. There's not much he can do about the sunlight, however. It takes him a minute to realise that the reason it's so bright is that he's still lying down, only instead of his bedroom ceiling staring back at him, it's the sun. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, wondering how he's been transported outside - and where he is now. He's on grass, and there's precious little of that within the city of Esthar.

"Well," says a male voice from behind him. "You must be a Lu Han, whatever that is. I didn't expect you to look like a person."

"Huh?" Lu Han picks himself up, turning so he can see who's speaking. "Why wouldn't I look like a person?"

The speaker is no one he recognises, and certainly not a faculty member. No one in Esthar wears battered mythril armour, dented in at least a dozen places and missing a helmet. Some of them carry a staff, but none as heavy and tall as this, with a circular gem at each end. The lower stone is purple; the upper is a bright, shining red, and Lu Han feels immediately drawn to it, though he can't say why. He's not even into jewellery.

"And you speak, too!" The man sounds shocked by the very idea that Lu Han is capable of speech. How ridiculous.

"Of course I speak," Lu Han says crossly. He's a teenage boy, not some dumb animal.

"I don't care if you can speak as long as you can fight," the stranger says, not sounding terribly convinced. "I've never seen materia like you before. What are you supposed to be? I wanted something strong, not some scrawny prettyboy who looks like he could be blown down by a puff of wind!"

Lu Han clenches his fists at the insult. Sure, he's not particularly tall and he hasn't filled out much yet, but he's only fourteen and that leaves him plenty of time for growth. He can't help being fair of face; once he loses some of the roundness of childhood and takes on a man's angles, things will be different. Then no one will call him pretty, or cute, or helpless. (So he hopes, but the men in his family tree are not exactly built like wrestlers and it doesn't help that he takes after his mother.) He'd be more angry if he weren't so confused.

"Materia? What's materia?"

The armoured man looks at him like he's gone mad. "This!" He taps the red jewel at the top of his staff. "This is materia. Lu Han materia!"

"But _I'm_ Lu Han!"

"Then do whatever it is you're supposed to do," the man says, "because there's a half-dozen Kalm Fangs headed our way and my Chocobo Lure materia isn't going to be of any use!"

The only part of that making any sense to Lu Han is the mention of chocobos, because he at least knows what those are. But materia, and Kalm Fangs, and why he's here...that's all a mystery, and one he'd rather not stick around to solve. Anything with 'fang' in its name probably isn't going to be warm and fuzzy.

At a growl from behind, Lu Han turns back around to face six pale purple wolves, snarling savagely through their fangs. He freezes, rooted to the spot. He's never seen wolves this colour before. They're enormous, ferocious, and absolutely terrifying. Is that blood dripping from their muzzles?

"Don't just stand there!" the man urges him. "Do something! I didn't call you out to watch me be torn to pieces!"

"What am I supposed to do?" Lu Han yells back. "Be your human shield?"

"You're not even human!"

The words strike Lu Han like a hammer to the chest, shattering ribs to pound the fragile heart beneath. _Not even human_. There's something very, very wrong here. Why would some stranger - both armed and armoured - call a defenceless boy to protect him from wolves and expect such a tactic to actually work? It's completely illogical...unless he assumes Lu Han isn't really a teenage boy. But Lu Han _is_ , so that doesn't help. This man thinks he's something else: something that can fight.

Lu Han wants to ask what the man thinks he is. He never gets the chance. One of the Kalm Fangs leaps forward, crashing into the armour and knocking its wearer to the ground. There's a cry, and a clang, and an awful howl that sets Lu Han's teeth on edge. He's afraid to look down. There's a struggle taking place and he has no capacity to help, not when the remaining five wolves are watching him. He doesn't even have any armour. One step, and he's history.

The Kalm Fangs begin to move. Never losing sight of Lu Han, they pad outwards, forming a loose circle around both of them. Now he can't even run - not that he thinks his legs would cooperate if he tried. He's never felt so afraid in all his life. Facing down bullies in his former school was a walk in the park, in comparison. They were only human. These wolves...there's something weird about them, and not just the fact that purple wolves, as far as he knows, don't exist. They're overgrown, too, with mouths stuffed too full of long, sharp teeth to be comfortable. Mutant wolves. _Monsters_.

And these monsters like to play. The first one approaches from the left, jaws parted for maximum intimidation. Lu Han toys with the idea of dodging, evading the wolf as though he were being tackled during a match. Yeah, that's it. He's running towards the goal, ball at his feet, sees the enemy coming and...

If this were a match, he could pass the ball and take the heat off himself. But the only other player is still screaming on the ground, and not likely to be of much help.

Lu Han looks frantically about him, shuffling now from foot to foot in an effort to get himself moving, but the more he looks, the less likely it seems that he can run between the Kalm Fangs and make his escape. They're faster than he is, and have a considerably greater reach. The one nearest him pads slowly closer. Instinct has him stepping back until his socked foot brushes against wood. It's the stranger's staff. Better than nothing. It's longer than Lu Han is tall; he reaches down to pick it up, hoping he can at least use it to keep the wolves from coming any nearer.

The staff doesn't budge. He looks down. No, it's not wedged in anywhere. It doesn't seem to be stuck to anything, and even if Lu Han's not come into his full strength yet, he knows he's more than capable of lifting an overlong piece of wood. He tries with both hands: still nothing, not even the faintest movement to disturb the grass. This makes no sense. Why can't he lift the staff?

That's all the time he has to ponder on the question. A wolf slams into his chest, pushing him down with its massive forepaws. A claw catches in the pocket of his white school shirt and he hears it tear as he smacks into the ground, the Kalm Fang crushing him into the grass, its breath hot on his face. Those fangs are awfully big. Lu Han struggles for air, never mind the possibility of extricating himself from beneath the beast. There's a giant furry anvil determined to pulverise his puny human ribcage and he can't even feel enough to tell if anything's broken. Either he's going numb, or he's in so much pain in so many different places that he can't distinguish one from the other - he's not sure which.

He's forced to reconsider both options when a second Kalm Fang slinks up to him, nosing along his left arm where it lies on the grass, partially pinned by the shoulder. He'd hold his breath if he had any left to hold. The wolf sniffs a few times, snuffling into his clothes like his neighbour's dog back home. A big dog. Just a big dog. If he keeps very still, these _big dogs_ will tire of exploring his scent and rough-housing with him, and they'll bound off to find someone else to play with. There's no reason this has to end badly. He'll be a little wet and covered in hair, but he'll be okay.

He keeps telling himself that right up until a set of sharp teeth embeds itself in his forearm. There's a squeeze and a million pinpricks and _blood_. Lu Han can only see a little out of the corner of his eye, at the very edge of his vision, but it's enough to watch a red stain soak the flimsy white shirtsleeve. That he doesn't feel a crunch is paltry consolation; the beast refuses to let go. Everything's hot, everything's wet, and the pain pulsing through his arm begins to make itself known amidst the festival of agony being held on his chest. He wants to pull away. One slight tug's enough to convince him to change his mind - if a Kalm Fang's determined to tear his flesh, he's not going to help it by moving.

Lu Han forces himself to focus through the pain - _just like training, just like training_ \- to raise his right arm, laying his hand flat against the chest of the wolf sitting on him and pushing upwards as hard as he can. Its pelt is rough, light purple hair coarse enough to scratch his palm, though such minor hurts are insignificant now. His straining does him no good. He's still working on building up his upper body strength - most of his power is in his legs at the moment, and the weight on his thighs tells him they won't be of help in knocking the Kalm Fang off his torso.

His attempt to fight back only seems to irritate it. It growls, a low rumble that sends a fresh wave of fear down his spine. This is nothing like his neighbour's terrier.

A sudden slash of claws along his right arm has him howling like a wolf himself. It's not a deep wound - a casual scrape from the Kalm Fang on his chest - but it's enough to make him seize his hand back, skin burning from his wrist to his elbow, blood streaking his torn school shirt. He's woefully under-dressed for this. The guy in the armour had the right idea (not that the extra protection appears to be up to the task, if the screams still coming from behind Lu Han are any indication).

Lu Han's forced to close his eyes against the onslaught of hot, rotted-meat breath as the creature lowers its head - disturbingly near to his throat. There's no way out of this. The Kalm Fangs will tear him to pieces and have him for dinner, and his parents will never know what happened. Everyone will think he ran away from school, probably got himself lost in the plains somewhere and eventually died of thirst. There will be nothing left of him to find, in this strange place where people assume he's not human, assume he can somehow be summoned because his name's on some stupid red jewel, assume he's here to fight monstrous beasts he's never even seen before.

He's going to die and there's _nothing_ he can do about it.

Once he's accepted that fact, it's easier not to struggle. Every minute movement has teeth tearing further across his skin, or the weight on his chest shifting position to something even more crushing. If he stays still, if he stays very still, if he concentrates hard on anything but this, maybe he won't notice when the end comes.

He thinks about his parents - _another set of claws raking down his leg_ \- and whether or not his disappearance will only be another disappointment to them.

He thinks about how he misses playing football with his friends - _there goes a chunk from his right calf, why can't his legs be as numb as his chest?_ \- and how he misses having friends in the first place.

He thinks about all the things he's never done - _are those teeth in his shoulder?_ \- and how he never will. He's failed everyone. His parents, his teachers, that poor guy screaming on the ground who'd thought Lu Han could save him - but mostly himself. By giving up, he's letting the universe make him feel useless. Hopeless. Worthless.

And Lu Han may be many things, not all of them positive, but he's no quitter. He'll take whatever he has and keep struggling forward. If one path isn't working out for him he'll find another, and another, until he knows which way to go...and he's not about to let anyone stop him. He can't. He's never had anyone to save him before and no one's stepping up to do it now. If he's going to die here, he'll fight to his last breath.

That single, worthy thought sticks with him through the agony of claws dragged down the centre of his chest, splitting shirt and skin alike as the Kalm Fang slinks to the side, giving him a shot at a few more last breaths. The struggle for air becomes easier, yet laced with thin strips of pain each time he so much as starts to draw breath. The wolves are toying with him. This isn't the behaviour he'd expect from anything simply looking to eat him. What's the point in slicing him to pieces, little by little, until all the blood in his body has drained into the grass?

Without the weight on his chest Lu Han has a clearer view of his surroundings. There are four of the Kalm Fangs beside him now, all of them maintaining optimum swiping distance, slashing at him and occasionally hitting each other in the process. But the most important part is that for the moment, he's not being held down, which means that even as battered and bloodied as he is, he has another chance. He presses down on the ground with his least injured arm - the right - to propel himself up enough to stand.

Or try to stand, anyway. The wounds to his legs bleed freely, his right calf screaming at him to do something - anything - to relieve it of its agony, and he's being batted around so much that standing upright only seems like making himself a better target. He makes it as far as a wobbly crouch. The grass beneath his soaked socks is painted red with his blood; each second costs him a little more that he can't afford to spare when he's already feeling so dizzy. He folds his arms over his chest to protect it as best he can - but of course now he's no longer lying down, his back is vulnerable, open to attack. He needs to reach cover. There are no buildings in sight; no trees, either. There might be nothing for miles, for all he knows.

And if that's the case, he'll _never_ know.

Lu Han hisses the pain through his teeth, trying to stabilise himself enough to stand properly. He'll get nowhere like this. He wishes desperately that he'd been able to pick up the staff; even such a simple weapon would serve when he has nothing but his damaged body to fight with. If only...

Warmth begins to build in his right hand, and it has nothing to do with the heat from his spilled blood. He risks a precious moment looking down at where it's pressed against the scrape along his chest. His hand's not just warm, it's _glowing_.

_Blue._

With a gasp, Lu Han draws his hand away from the wound. The blood streaks fail to hide the sky blue glow. Maybe it's poison? Or some kind of infection? He's not sure how a rabid Kalm Fang would act, or why their bite would cause him to glow, but it has to have been caused by them. There's no other explanation. He holds his hand out in horror. Momentarily fascinated, the Kalm Fangs halt their savage attack to stare at him.

That moment is all the time he needs. In a single shot, the blue glow expands and solidifies into a long, curved sword - a gleaming scimitar, the likes of which Lu Han's never even seen outside of stories, much less possessed. It's heavy in his hand, yet not enough for him to drop it; his fingers curl around the cold, silver hilt like they've been waiting to do this all day and now the time has finally come. He holds the sword aloft, ignoring the way his arm screams at him to stop stretching already torn skin. Incredibly, it feels lighter as he raises it, as though adjusting itself to his strength. This is _his_ weapon now.

One of the wolves snarls at him and he opens his mouth to reply in kind, but what emerges is no snarl, or hiss, or growl. " _Zantetsuken_ ," Lu Han whispers, and the wolf never makes another sound.

How can it, when its head lies on the grass, severed by Lu Han's sword?

Lu Han's never fought anyone with a sword before. He's certainly never killed anyone before. He wouldn't know how. That doesn't seem to matter. Another Kalm Fang makes a leap for him and he whirls, turning his broken body to let it pass before he cleaves it in two. That's not him, that's not right, his every move made with an instinct he's never had, but the sword doesn't care about that. He lets it lead him on a bloodstained dance through the monsters, one where he's faster and lighter on his feet than he's ever been, where his blade flashes blue in the sunlight and drips with scarlet and purple as it slices through the wolves. His arm moves of its own accord; he admires his newfound skill even as he puzzles over its origin.

He's a fourteen year-old schoolboy and he's somehow acquired the abilities of a swordmaster. Nothing touches him. Not a single claw even comes close. His blade sinks into lilac fur, through the skin below, through muscle and bone and out the other side - the Kalm Fangs can offer no resistance, and as their numbers decrease he finds himself grinning maniacally at the carnage. These monsters have done their best to kill him and he's survived. He's done more than survive. He's reduced them to a pile of mixed-up body parts on the grass, a heap of gore so mangled he's half-afraid to look at it for fear it'll give him nightmares later.

He plants his feet shoulder-width apart as the final wolf turns away from the armoured man and springs towards him, hatred burning in its eyes. It's seen what he's done to its companions. It should flee for its life.

But it doesn't, and Lu Han's sword flashes one last time. The wolf's severed head lands with a thump on the grass and Lu Han turns away as its body crashes down after it, blood spurting from the neck. So much blood. It's everywhere. On the grass, on the sword, on his clothes...on him, and it's only when he lowers his sword, arm suddenly aching and head spinning from the deadly dance, that he realises just how much of that blood belongs to him.

He sinks to his knees, heedless of the further damage he's inflicting on his uniform. This isn't...he can't do this. He shouldn't be doing this. He's no warrior. His battle against the Kalm Fangs has only worsened his wounds and now that he's stopped moving, every single rent in his flesh is screaming for attention. Every bruise, every bite. He's bleeding from more places than he can count - not that he _can_ count right now, because that requires more concentration than he can spare. He looks down at himself dazedly, fingers still in a loose grip around the hilt of his scimitar. His uniform is little more than red-stained shreds of fabric plastered to his body with blood. What skin remains untainted is pale, thinning to a worrying translucency, and Lu Han thinks he could lose himself here, watching as the last of his lifeblood travels through his veins.

He's too tired to do anything else. The light, nimble swordsman who moves like lightning has vanished, replaced by an exhausted, broken boy who knows the end must be near. His heart's the only thing still in motion, beating faster and faster as it runs out of blood to pump. There's no one to smile for here but Lu Han does it anyway, tears mingling with blood on his cheeks because after all this, he's still going to die, and no one will ever know.

He almost wishes they'd killed him outright. A quick death would be so much better than this slow, confusing fade into eternal unconsciousness, where he can feel himself die one drop at a time. Maybe...maybe he can finish it himself. A sword that cuts through wolves like a knife through butter can easily pierce his already mutilated skin.

If only he has the strength to turn the weapon upon himself. Everything's so heavy...

Willpower alone helps him tilt the curved blue blade up towards his heart. It's not...this isn't what he would've chosen. He hopes his parents will realise that, if they ever learn what's become of him. He doesn't think they will, somehow.

He closes his eyes, lets himself pitch forward...

\-----

Lu Han's story comes to an abrupt halt as Jongin grabs his arm, too horrified to remember he's angry.

"It's all right," Lu Han says gently. "I woke up still lying in bed, screaming from a stab wound I'd never received."

"You told me about the Kalm Fangs before, but I didn't know..."

Jongin's deep, gorgeous voice holds all the pain Lu Han would like to forget. That's one of the things Lu Han loves about him, that he empathises so well. One thing of many. It's also one of the reasons Lu Han prefers not to talk about himself, because there are pieces of his history whose pain he'd rather Jongin didn't take it upon himself to bear.

"We both have scars that we can't see anymore." Lu Han pats Jongin's thigh, where scars from a mythril claw no longer exist. "That doesn't mean they lose their place in our memories."

Jongin flinches at the unexpected touch, then realises he's still holding Lu Han's other arm. He promptly drops it, the worry draining from his face until the sullenness returns. Lu Han mentally kicks himself for bringing up Jongin's past. Jongin doesn't want a reminder of the low points of his own life: he wants to hear about Lu Han's. All of it.

"That's the worst of it," Lu Han says, wanting to reassure him. "I never came that close to death again. None of us have died yet in your world and I'm not going to, either."

"Because now you know what you're doing?"

"Because if I die, I lose you," Lu Han says softly.

Jongin has no ready reply for such a straightforward admission. He's prepared to counter lines and lies, but not the truth he's asked for. He stares intently at Lu Han, face an unreadable mask to cover warring emotions beneath, and Lu Han wonders what to tell him to tip the balance in favour of forgiveness.

"The first time I was summoned was one of the most painful events of my life," Lu Han says. "But it wasn't the only new experience I had that day."

A flicker of interest passes across Jongin's features; Lu Han smiles fondly in remembrance.

"It was the first time I dreamed about you."

\-----

Lu Han's breath comes in short, panicked gasps as he clutches his chest, feeling for the gashes he knows - _he knows!_ \- are there, but his questing fingers find nothing but a school shirt, rumpled but otherwise intact, and likewise his skin beneath. He's lying on his back, the familiar knot in the mattress pressing against his spine; he knows without a doubt that this is his bed, this is his room, this is his school. This is his...world? Where swords don't magically appear in his hand when he needs them, where overgrown wolves don't try to tear him to pieces.

He fumbles for the light on his nightstand, almost knocking it to the floor when his trembling hands miss the switch. It's full dark now, no more sunshine on the grass, and the lamp - and his headache, which has returned full force - makes his eyes begin to water. He blinks tears down what should be bloodstained cheeks, but there's no blood anywhere. Neither on his clothes nor his skin. He should be ready to expire from his injuries, and the only pain he has is a headache. It's not even a migraine.

He laughs, patting himself where he remembers sustaining wounds, tracing claw marks with his fingertips and marvelling at his whole and healthy skin, no gouges to be seen. There's no mirth in his laughter, only despair. How is this happening? Was the whole thing a dream? A gory, vivid, brutal nightmare brought on by a headache and a history assignment he wouldn't mind getting out of? His imagination's never been _that_ active before. He's never dreamed of his own death, by his hand or anyone else's.

His nearest neighbours are probably at dinner now. No one came running when he screamed, and no one comes now he's laughing too long and too loud for company. Or maybe they do hear, and they don't care.

Although his sheets are soaked - with sweat, not blood, why is there no blood? - Lu Han lies back down, curling into himself, shaking against the pillows. The lamplight doesn't help. He could switch on the overhead light and he'd still see shadows in the corners of the room, where the ghosts of Kalm Fangs wait to avenge their fallen selves. Knowing he's unhurt doesn't make it any less real.

He should be dead. He's been torn to pieces tonight. He's watched a little more of his life slip away with each drop of blood; he's felt the agony of teeth and claws ripping him apart.

He should be dead. How's he supposed to walk away from that?

Eventually his confusion loses out to exhaustion and he dreams again. This time, there are no monsters. There are no strange men in armour, or gleaming red orbs, or glowing blue swords that move of their own volition. This time, there is the warmth of a friendly face, and Lu Han has no idea who it belongs to. It's no one he recognises. A young man, maybe late teens, maybe early twenties, with fluffy brown hair, dangling bare feet over the edge of a porch as he watches the setting sun paint the sky with gold. He's holding a soda can in one hand, taking occasional sips.

His other hand is wrapped around Lu Han's. Lu Han can't see himself, but he knows he's the other person in this scene because he can feel fingers twining with his own, the wood of the porch beneath him, a gentle evening breeze on his face. It's unexpected - Lu Han doesn't make a habit of holding hands with men, much less men he doesn't know - but somehow comforting. Here's someone who's not trying to attack him, or ignore him, who clearly wants to be with him, and that's been missing from his life for a long time now. They must be friends, he and this stranger. Friends...at least.

The friend, whoever he is, seems content to simply sit there as the sun sinks lower. They obviously don't have anywhere better to be at the moment. Lu Han allows himself to relax. He doesn't know where this dream will take him, but it's already a considerable improvement over the previous one.

Even better is when the friend turns around and smiles, a toothy little-boy grin on an adult's face, eyes crinkling at the corners and more warming than the hottest fire. Lu Han doesn't know anyone whose face lights up so completely when they smile. Not yet. He'd like to, because it's a sight even more beautiful than the sunset. He tries to return the smile, but his dream-self doesn't cooperate, drawing him back into the darkness even as he leans forward. He can't stay.

He wakes up the next morning with aches and pains from sleeping in awkward positions, but no gashes and gouges. No blood. No headache, either, thankfully, but that means he has no excuse to avoid going to class. He waits until breakfast is almost over to dash into the cafeteria for a bite, putting off the rest of his life for as long as he can. He's still lost in a dream somewhere, that's what it is, and he's not sure how to drag himself back to the real world - especially when it doesn't hold much appeal for him.

Still, no one's trying to tear him to pieces, which at least makes school safer than his dream. He struggles to pay attention during his classes, fobbing off questions from concerned teachers when they ask him if something's wrong. There's no way he's explaining why he feels like he's only half-there, and the rest of him is somewhere else. They'd only assume he's shirking.

It's not deliberate. He'd like to be able to pay attention. Only...when his mind wanders, which it does more than he'd like, that hard, binding cold still prickles at the edge of his consciousness, compressing him into a tight ball even as he walks to his next class. That's not from here. That's from his dream world, and it has him terrified that he'll be pulled back there again.

When three days pass without incident, he thinks he might be imagining things. Being unnecessarily paranoid. He had a terribly vivid nightmare, he's shaken up, he's not spoken to another living soul about it and he's letting it prey on his mind. Simple as that. This world is as real as it gets.

Until the next time.

He hears his name when he's in the middle of lunch, sitting by himself at the far end of a long table, where there's no one to notice his chopsticks hitting the plate. When the binding snaps, he's in a forest. At least this time he's on his feet.

But not for long. A large, evil-looking purple and blue bird swoops towards him, forcing him to duck just in time for its talons to rake through his hair rather than claw his eyes out. It's a close call. The bird passes into the trees behind him; Lu Han casts a hasty glance around from his crouch to see another two up ahead, with sharp beaks and dark, murderous eyes. Birds of prey, clearly, but like none he's seen before - more monsters?

"You beat the Kalm Fangs." A familiar voice, one he'd rather not hear again. "Now do the same with these Formulas."

"You survived!" Lu Han doesn't bother to hide his disappointment. Full-grown men, armed and armoured, who summon helpless schoolboys to kill monsters for them, don't command his respect and never will. The armour's a little more battered but its owner displays no sign of having been set upon by wolves mere days before. This strange place, wherever it is, has excellent medical care.

He'd prefer not to be in need of it himself, however. Ghostly claws flit down his arm and he shudders, forcibly pushing the memory to the back of his mind. He can't afford to let it haunt him now.

One of the birds - _a Formula_ \- makes a dive for him, aiming lower than its friend. He darts left to avoid a beak spearing his stomach, but he's not quite fast enough to avoid catching a wing to the ribcage. It's heavier than he expects. The collision sends the Formula off-course, crashing to the ground, though that's not enough to keep it down for long and he backs away from the enormous bird, rubbing a hand down his bruised side.

He can't hurt them. Can't hide from them, either, because the trees aren't close enough to keep them from spreading their oversized wings. And he definitely can't count on that armoured coward for help.

As always, he can only depend on himself. _But last time..._

Last time he brought out a sword. Lu Han flattens himself against the nearest tree, facing away from the birds, and holds out his right hand to stare hard at it. It's not glowing. How to make it glow?

He doesn't have time to stand around scratching his head and hoping the answer surfaces. All three monsters have him in sight now. He weaves through the trees, relying on his relatively small stature to reduce his size as a target. His speed is less of a help, hampered by tree roots that seem determined to trip him. He holds an image in his mind as he runs: a curved blue blade, weighted perfectly for his hand, leading him in a dance of death. He curls his fingers, can practically feel the metal forming within his grip.

And like that, it does.

Lu Han's panic ebbs, replaced by a wild confidence in abilities he's not even sure belong to him. But it doesn't matter if the only reason he can fight is the sword's power. It's enough to get him out of this. He'll worry about it later.

" _Zantetsuken!_ "

The first Formula to reach him loses first a wing, then its head. The second falls into quarters. The third flees for its life.

Lu Han doesn't give chase. He's unharmed but exhausted, sword arm drooping as the rush of adrenaline wears off. He sags against the nearest tree, wondering how to return home. He nearly died last time. This time, the only blood on his clothing belongs to the birds. Death is a long way off.

"Back you go," says the man in armour, waving his staff in Lu Han's direction. The red jewel seems to wink at him. "Back in your materia orb until next time."

 _Back in the orb._ Why anyone should think Lu Han lives in a jewel is beyond him. He's not some sort of fantastical creature to be summoned in times of need, to slay monsters with a magic sword. He's a human boy, and a confused one, at that.

But this idiot with the staff...he obviously doesn't know any better, and Lu Han doubts he'd listen to an explanation. Maybe that's how things work, here. Maybe half his classmates are secretly fighting battles in another world and no one knows who they really are. If this guy doesn't know what Lu Han _is_ , he doesn't know what he's _not_ , either. Perhaps Lu Han can use that to his advantage.

It's an effort to hold up his free hand but he manages, stopping the armoured guy in his tracks. "Don't call on me too often," he warns, trying to sound imposing, a seasoned warrior rather than a bewildered schoolboy whose legs are rapidly losing the strength to keep him standing. "I might not be able to answer."

"Not for everyday use, I got it. But what if it's an emergency?"

"Even then," Lu Han says firmly. "My strength is limited."

"Yeah, I can see that," the armoured man cracks. "Three Formulas and you look like you're ready to expire."

"Then fight them yourself next time," Lu Han shoots back, before the world swims and he's waking up in the school doctor's office. He knows he didn't walk there himself. Someone must've carried him through from the cafeteria. He wonders how long it took them to notice he'd collapsed over his lunch tray.

The doctor fusses over him for a little, chiding him for not eating enough - it's not his fault he passed out and didn't get to finish lunch, but she doesn't care - and says he's not looking like himself. Lu Han can barely keep from laughing at her words. Himself? Who's that? The friendless schoolboy who sits alone at lunch and dreams of glory on the football pitch? Or the swordsman who fights like a demon at the behest of a stranger?

But to give in to the hysterical giggles bubbling up in his throat would only guarantee further questions, so he swallows them down, pretends he's merely overtired - and, for good measure, stressed about his upcoming history project. (No harm in trying to get out of it, he figures, although he quickly changes his mind when the doctor offers to discuss the matter with his teacher and the rest of his project group. He doesn't think he could stand the embarrassment.)

At least fainting at lunch gets him out of his afternoon classes. The doctor sends him back to his room to rest, once she's convinced he's steady enough to walk. He puts up a good front. It's not that he's wobbly so much as wary: the binding's still there, at the back of his mind, and if he pushes at it, it doesn't move. He thinks it might be the materia orb caging him in. If that's the case, he could be summoned back there without warning.

Or very little warning, at any rate, since if he hears the summoner calling his name, he can't help but respond. He spends his afternoon in bed, as ordered, but instead of sleeping, he makes plans for next time - he has no doubt it'll happen again, and he wants to be prepared. He can make a sword appear in his hand by thinking about it. What else might he be able to create?

Two days later it happens again. This time, he's ready for it. The essay he's writing in his room fades out when he hears his name, and as the cold, hard ring squeezes him in preparation for release, he pictures himself in gleaming mythril armour, protected by near-impenetrable metal from head to foot, scimitar shining blue in his gloved hand. Nothing can touch him like this. He'll dispatch whatever monsters await him in short order and emerge without a scratch.

Much to his surprise, it works. The armour's not exactly ideal attire for the beach where he pops out, because sand somehow manages to sneak in through just about every joint, but he's even more heavily defended than the giant turtle he's called upon to attack, and he slices it to ribbons before he even finds out what it's called. He's becoming accustomed to the slaughter that inevitably follows a summoning. It's...not real. This isn't his world. These monsters are playthings in someone else's fantasy, just like him, and he tells himself that none of it matters. Kill or be killed. He has no other options.

But is it someone else's fantasy when he dreams of himself, fingers hovering over his computer keyboard, still typing his essay even as his sword sinks into the turtle's shell? One quick flash, but enough to disorient him for a moment. He's both here and there. A student and a swordsman. The words on the screen make perfect sense, but how is he even concentrating enough to write about the impact the railroad has had on Balamb's economy? It's hardly his specialist subject.

He remains on the beach once his task is complete, puzzled, though less tired than before. He probably couldn't kill anything else yet, he thinks, but he's still standing, and he doesn't feel on the verge of collapse. He's growing stronger. That has to be a positive thing. Perhaps he can explore this world further before he's torn away from it again.

He pushes up his visor for a clearer view. There's a gasp from behind him, but he has nothing to say to the man who's called him out. Turning away from the sea, he walks up the beach, finding it easier than he'd expected to move in the armour - grace when fighting is one thing, but his sword is loosely clutched in his hand now, at rest, and there's only the soft thud of boots on sand.

Lu Han doesn't usually wear mythril armour to the beach. Now the battle's over he feels out of place, so he tries something else. If he can make it appear, perhaps he can reverse the process. There's clothing beneath the metal but he has no idea what it might be - it fits, and that's all he can tell. As he strides away from his summoner, he imagines the armour vanishing back to wherever it came from, and more beach-appropriate attire materialising in its place. Light shorts and a T-shirt, boots disappearing to leave bare feet behind, and that's more like it, that's what he wants. Sand slips between his toes, warm from the sun. He can't see how much further it stretches into the distance.

It doesn't matter. He'll keep walking. He's learning all the time how to make this nightmare work for him and he'll explore it as far as he's able, ignoring the angry cries from behind about how he must return to his 'master'. _Master_. As though Lu Han is a servant, or a pet. A tame sword to be summoned without his consent. It can't be real.

But if it's not real, then Lu Han is losing his mind, and he's fairly certain that's not the case here. His faculties are intact. It's reality that's somehow gotten screwed up.

He speeds up, breaking into a jog, kicking up sand and the occasional shell as he puts as much distance as he can between himself and his 'master'. The scenery never changes, except in his mind. There, he's working on his essay's bibliography in brief flashes that stabilise into a steady stream of images when he concentrates on them. He's almost finished. Might even get a decent grade, if he hasn't written about being in two places at once instead.

He tires faster now, each footfall heavier than the last, though he forces himself to maintain the pace. He doesn't want to stop. There must be something more out there. This world must have more than monster-infested forests and beaches. The people have to come from somewhere - if, indeed, there are more people, and it seems a reasonable assumption to make. One man alone could not have survived so long. Lu Han's not going back to ask him about it.

A sharp snap in his head brings him to his knees. He plunges into the sand, hands outstretched not to save him from falling flat on his face but to push away the invisible bands keeping him back. The binding cold returns, a circle of hard metal squeezing him into a ball. Into an orb. Instinct tells him he's come as far as he can. That red jewel controls his existence here and he can't leave it behind.

\-----

"You were a lot nicer about calling me 'Master'," Jongin says. "Even if you didn't mean it."

"I never mean it," Lu Han says unapologetically. "But I didn't care if any of the others liked me or not."

"If you wanted me to like you, you could've tried calling me by name?" Jongin suggests, heavy on the sarcasm.

"I told you why I didn't." Lu Han tries not to snap, but it's hard not to feel irritated when Jongin's poking and prodding at particularly sore points. "Maybe we made a mistake deciding not to tell you guys, but there's nothing any of us can do about it now, okay? I did the best I could."

He appreciates that he may have done some stupid things in the past, and that he's probably not going to stop making mistakes just because Jongin will get mad at him. He's only human, contrary to how his other masters see him, and humans are fallible.

"Sorry," Jongin mumbles, looking down at the ground. "I know it couldn't have been easy learning to live with all that."

He's unbending slightly, Lu Han thinks. Jongin's not used to having anyone to worry about but himself, and hadn't until he'd met Lu Han; Lu Han accepts, however grudgingly, that this makes it harder for them to see eye-to-eye regarding his motives.

"It's not ideal," Lu Han says, "but it's certainly more interesting than anything I learned in that boarding school. It took me another few trips to your world to realise I became stronger each time, as long as I stayed with the same person - although even that didn't allow me to wander any farther from my materia. I was stuck with my masters."

"Um..." Jongin licks his lips, suddenly nervous. "Stuck with them...like you're stuck with me? I mean, that guy with the staff, you weren't..."

Lu Han snorts. No chance, there. "He must've been late forties, at least. And he didn't think I was human."

" _I_ didn't think you were human."

"And you fell for me anyway," Lu Han says, taking heart from the way Jongin flushes at his words. "But we were together before. I didn't dream about any of my other masters."

It's not that Lu Han's never slept with any of his other masters. He has, though he sees no point in upsetting Jongin with the details. Not for the first few years, when trying to survive high school and figure out the rest of his life was his biggest concern, but later, before he'd found Jongin, when he'd been curious enough to indulge the occasional master who'd thought owning Lu Han's materia meant they were entitled to use his body for more than slaying monsters and hadn't cared that they weren't sure he was human. And before that, even, he'd had no trouble finding companionship in Jongin's world.

In his own world, however...

\-----

Months without a roommate, while lonely, have given Lu Han the privacy he needs to adjust to his secret life. It's with some dismay, then, that he answers a knock on his bedroom door one evening to find an unfamiliar face outside.

"Lu Han?" the stranger asks, offering him a friendly smile. "I'm Kim Minseok. Your new roommate."

Lu Han's too stunned to do more than step mutely aside, allowing Minseok to haul his giant suitcase into the room. He manoeuvres it easily over to the unoccupied bed (which, Lu Han finally realises, must've been made up while he was at dinner, because the dust sheet's gone and fresh bedding has been applied). The case almost takes up more space than its owner, who is slightly shorter than Lu Han and a little rounder in places but not greatly so, with eyes that most resemble those of a cat.

When Minseok unlocks his case and begins to unpack, Lu Han figures he'd better clear some space, given that his possessions have taken over more than his fair share of the storage since he's had the place to himself. He takes everything out of the top couple of drawers and stuffs it haphazardly in the lowest two - he can sort it out tomorrow - then moves onto the wardrobe, shoving his clothing down one end and pushing the empty hangers towards the other. Minseok, he notes, is much more organised, folding things neatly, everything in its place. (It transpires, soon enough, that Minseok is actually the tidiest teenage boy Lu Han has ever met, which is handy when they have inspections, though not so much when Lu Han's trying to find something that's been unexpectedly put away without his knowledge.)

Talking to new people is difficult, especially when thrown together in such close quarters. Lu Han doesn't know what to say. What if his new roommate turns out to be like every other student in the school? Friendly at first, then politely distant? What if he asks for a transfer?

Minseok talks as he unpacks. "I'm from Dollet," he says. "The headmaster said I should room with you because you're not from Esthar either, so we'd get along."

He can't see Lu Han rolling his eyes. Their headmaster, a longhaired ex-journalist who gets leg cramps when he gives speeches in assembly and tells everyone he meets stories about his missing son, is neither tactful nor subtle, and Lu Han doesn't credit him with any particular depth of thought. He's nice, at least, which makes him an improvement over Lu Han's previous headmaster, who'd assumed the worst about every bruise and bloodied nose. Like Lu Han made a point of picking on gangs of football players, or something.

"I hope we can get along," he says, honestly. "It'll be a very long year, otherwise."

Minseok nods, turning from his position in front of the open wardrobe. "Let's do that." He nods at a pair of football boots sitting in the base of the cupboard. "You play?"

"Every chance I get," Lu Han says, and when Minseok removes a box from his suitcase and holds up a pair of his own, Lu Han begins to feel more optimistic about the roommate situation.

They finish unpacking together, happily discussing sports until a noisy growl from Minseok's stomach has them both laughing. "I arrived too late for dinner," he explains. "I had a snack on the train, but that was _hours_ ago..."

The kitchens are closed for the night, but each hall has vending machines at the entrance. Esthar's not exactly known for being a cheap city, so Minseok's parents have sent him off to school with more money than a fifteen year old boy who can only leave the campus on weekends could ever use. One spending spree later, Lu Han and Minseok are back in their room with enough snack food to keep them going for the rest of the year and an unspoken agreement that they will train doubly hard to justify all the extra calories. Minseok's cheeks puff out like steamed buns as he eats, which Lu Han finds cute. He doesn't comment on it, though. Guys at their age, it's not really the type of compliment they want to receive.

They split a giant bag of crisps while examining Minseok's schedule. He's taking the same classes as Lu Han, which makes playing tour guide considerably easier, and Lu Han promises to show him around in the morning. There are no textbooks to collect - this being Esthar, everything's electronic and Minseok's already been issued his tablet to take to class - but there are teachers to meet, and a whole world of rooms that will be their shared home for the next few years.

It's not until Minseok asks about the other students that the conversation grinds to an awkward halt. Pity. Lu Han's missed this, talking to someone for more than the thirty seconds it takes to politely answer a question. They're having a nice evening getting to know each other. What happens tomorrow, when Minseok sees how spaces in the cafeteria instantly fill up the moment it looks like Lu Han might be heading for them? He's not going to want a pariah for a roommate. That's the sort of thing that instantly kills a new guy's chances.

"Um..." Lu Han hedges with an uncomfortable smile, "I'm not really the best person to introduce you around. But I'm sure you'll get along well with everyone."

"But I should get along with my roommate best, right?"

Lu Han hopes so.

Soon enough, Minseok's ready for sleep, worn out from his journey and more than content to embrace oblivion until the following morning. Lu Han would like to do the same.

He's not so lucky. His nightmare makes his monster-slaying adventures in the other world seem like a walk in the park.

At first he can't see anything. The whole world is red, thick and choking with a swirling fog, like a special effect on the stage. But stage fog dissipates. This stuff doesn't. He rubs his hands over his eyes. That's no help; it's not his vision playing tricks on him. Blinking only makes his eyes water, and as fast as the tears gather, the fog steals them away, leaving his eyes uncomfortably dry.

He can't stay here. He reaches out in front, cautious because he can barely see his hand when it's before him and when he stretches out, he loses sight of it altogether. Nothing to touch, not yet. One slow step forward, then another. Lu Han's finding it almost more comfortable to stare down at the ground. At least he can see his feet, though he doesn't recognise the shoes, and he's walking on grass, be it ever so dry and faded. Anything's better than an unending wall of red.

Does the rest of the world even exist, or has it been swallowed up by the fog? Lu Han's afraid to call out. If he opens his mouth, the red will coat his teeth and tongue, force its way down his throat and into his lungs. But of course he's been breathing all the time...

He stops, panic warring with his desire to hold his breath. He has to breathe - but what's he breathing in? Perhaps he's already poisoned himself without knowing and it's only a matter of time before he collapses on the ground, never to stand again, his body slowly becoming red from the inside out. He knows it's stupid but he takes shallow breaths anyway, hoping to stave off disaster a little longer.

He'll get nowhere like this. What he could do with is a giant fan, but the only weapon he's ever called upon is a sword, and what would that do against something so nebulous? He waves his arms in front of his face, thinking the breeze might clear him a few inches of sight. It works, but not quite in the way he expects. The fog doesn't just thin out, wisps trailing away for moments before drifting back towards him.

 _It explodes_.

Lu Han screws his eyes tight shut against the sudden blast of air, which appears to be centred entirely around _him_. He's...controlling it? Warmth tingles along his arms, ending at his fingertips, and when he risks a peep, the red fog is swirling itself into a storm.

But not by him. The air immediately surrounding him is clear. He almost wishes it weren't, because now he can see what the fog has been hiding, only a few feet beyond his reach.

A tree, growing up into the sky, branches disappearing into swarming red clouds too high for Lu Han to follow with his eyes. He can't identify it - botany's never been his best subject - but he doesn't have to know what it is to know that it's dying. Leaves wither as he watches; shrivelling, curling into faded, warped ghosts of themselves as they tumble from their homes. Motes of red dust settling on strong brown branches makes them sicken to grey, too weak to bear the lightest burden.

Not that Lu Han wants to try climbing the tree. He doesn't want to go anywhere near it. If something so big and sturdy can be felled so easily, his own chances are...not worth mentioning. Even now, the redness encroaches on the space he's made; he can feel the palms of his hands beginning to dry and tighten, crying out for a hefty dollop of moisturiser. He can't afford to lose them. He holds them up for inspection, imagining the worst, but they seem no more cracked than usual.

One thing, however, is out of place: a large silver ring on the middle finger of his left hand, formed of two lines of three circles with a single larger circle between them. Lu Han doesn't ordinarily wear rings, and this thing looks large enough to use as a weapon. It's kind of gaudy. It's also meaningless to him. Maybe it's a molecule he should recognise from chemistry lessons?

He'll worry about the ring later. He's more concerned that his hands aren't wrinkling up and dropping off. He's going to need them.

If he can do it once, he can do it again. Lu Han pushes his hands violently forward, palms facing out, and lo and behold, another gap appears in the fog. This time the clearer patch is to the right of the tree. There's a gleam of daylight beyond...

...and a band of shadows, heading straight for him.

Lu Han snaps awake, heart pounding and duvet clenched tight enough that his fingers are beginning to cramp. It takes him ten minutes to convince himself that there are no shadows creeping across the floor to snatch him out of bed. It takes him another ten to venture out from beneath the covers to reach the tube of hand cream in the chest of drawers. Even though his hands don't seem any drier than normal, he's not satisfied until he's completely slathered the skin. Then, and only then, does he feel calm enough to consider trying to sleep again.

They've got another three and a half hours yet before they have to be awake, and Minseok, thank goodness, is still sleeping peacefully, showing no signs of having been disturbed by Lu Han's nightmare. They've only known each other for a few hours; it's not the sort of impression Lu Han would like to make.

A wall of solid red appears when he closes his eyes. He knows it's all in his imagination, that he's spooked enough for his nightmare's shade to linger in his mind, but knowing that doesn't make it any easier to relax enough to sleep.

He must do eventually, though, because when he wakes up, he's lying on his back, not his side, and he can see Minseok's already up and about, hair damp from the shower. He receives a cheerful wave, far too perky for the time of morning. Minseok's not only neat, he's an early bird; at least, Lu Han thinks, he'll never be late for anything again as long as he sticks with his roommate.

How much longer he'll get to do that...depends on how Minseok gets along with the other students. Lu Han has no doubt they'll take to him.

At breakfast they enter the cafeteria together. Being new, Minseok attracts curious stares. Lu Han, standing beside him in the line, has almost forgotten what it's like to be looked on by so many. His fellow students usually do an admirable job of pretending not to see him.

Minseok gets his tray first and looks hesitantly around the room while he waits for Lu Han. There are empty seats scattered throughout the tables, and a couple of tables with no occupants at all. The polite thing for Lu Han to do would be to take Minseok over to one of the populated tables, introduce him to some of his new classmates, and hope they'd at least keep up the appearance of listening to him for the duration of the meal.

He could do that. He _should_ do that. But he'd like his roommate to remain on speaking terms with him, even if it's for just a little longer, and so he selfishly leads him across the room to one of the empty tables. They sit down across from each other with their trays, Lu Han with his back to everyone else - ostensibly so Minseok can take a look at his new companions while he eats.

"Hope you don't mind," Lu Han says. "I thought you might not want to deal with meeting new people first thing in the morning." It's not a complete untruth.

"I already met some when I went to shower earlier," Minseok says, pouring milk onto his cereal. "I think I gave one guy a heart attack."

"Probably not expecting some stranger in a towel."

"He'll get used to it."

Minseok spends the meal asking Lu Han for capsule biographies of people who catch his eye. Lu Han obliges, though really, he has little information to give, especially about students in other years. He doesn't know too much about the girls, either; even before the shunning began, he rarely spoke to them more than he had to in their shared classes. He's never been good at talking to girls, except when they've been into football themselves. Then the conversation turns to matches, and tactics, and which players to watch out for. It's comfortable, not smooth. Not refined. He's not sure how other boys manage it, what they talk about with girls.

Maybe they don't talk at all. Lu Han's never done any of _that_ , either. He's only fifteen. There's still time.

Perhaps not while he's in this high school, though - he's pretty sure social outcasts aren't high on the list of eligible boyfriends.

Although the other students continue to glance their way while they eat, no one comes over to talk to them. Lu Han briefly considers that he might have already doomed Minseok to spending the next few years in lonely obscurity. Minseok doesn't seem to mind, however, and thanks him for all the information.

Lu Han shugs. "What are roommates for?"

"Giving guided tours," Minseok says. "With witty commentary, if you can manage it."

Lu Han mutters something about how it's wrong to expect wit from him at this time of morning, but Minseok refills his coffee for him and Lu Han's willing to accept the bribe.

They build up a routine over the course of the day - Lu Han leads Minseok to their classes and quietly introduces him to the teacher, who then puts Minseok through the embarrassing but inevitable torture of a self-introduction. He handles it with good grace, brushing his floppy dark hair from his eyes after each bow, including the whole class in his smile. They learn nothing about him that Lu Han doesn't already know.

Lunch is a break in the routine. Their history teacher asks to see Lu Han for a few minutes after class; for a moment, Minseok looks like he's going to offer to stay too, but he's swept away by a crowd of students and all Lu Han can do is call that he'll see him later. By the time Lu Han makes it to the cafeteria, Minseok's already caught up in conversation at a table without spaces. Back to lunch as usual - alone. Lu Han pretends to be reading on his tablet while he eats, all the while keeping a surreptitious eye on his roommate to make sure he's doing okay. Minseok's older, but he's also new, and Lu Han's responsible for him.

He catches up with Minseok when they're disposing of their trays.

"Sorry about ditching you," Minseok says. "I would've waited, but..."

Lu Han shakes his head and gives Minseok a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. I had some reading to catch up on anyway. Did you have fun?"

"They seemed okay. I think I just met our next-door neighbours."

"You did." Lu Han winces. "They're all right, just kind of loud. They have these marathon video gaming sessions on weekends, and...you'll see for yourself."

Trays disposed of, they begin walking to their next class, Lu Han managing to dodge the question of what he does at weekends only because he excuses himself for a bathroom break, and by the time they're done with classes for the afternoon, the topic has been abandoned. Minseok has a meeting with their literature teacher to discuss the texts he covered in his previous school, so Lu Han returns to their room alone to make a start on his prep. He's so intent on his work that it doesn't even register that Minseok's taking an unusually long time until his stomach reminds him to go for dinner.

Minseok's already in the cafeteria, eating with a different group from lunch. He doesn't look like he's missing Lu Han's presence by his side. There's an empty chair at the end of his table, but...

If Lu Han joins them, it'll only make it obvious he's not wanted. No one will say anything, but it'll be what they _don't_ say that'll put Minseok in the picture. Lu Han grabs a sandwich and a drink from the fridges, hands over his card, and is back in the dorms before his roommate has the chance to spot him.

Another hour passes before Minseok returns; he's holding a pair of apples, one of which he tosses to Lu Han before closing the door. "Thought you might be hungry. I didn't see you at dinner."

"I just grabbed a sandwich and left," Lu Han admits. "Thanks."

"Lot of work to do?"

"Something like that." Lu Han crunches a bite of his apple, realising that perhaps he has something of an excuse, after all. "My last school wasn't anywhere near this fancy - I'm still catching up in some areas."

"Hmm?" Minseok raises a disbelieving eyebrow. "That's not what I hear."

A nervous gulp almost causes Lu Han to choke on his apple. "What do you mean?"

"Our teachers keep telling me you're a good student and if I have any problems keeping up you'll definitely be able to help me out."

Lu Han works hard, true, but he also puts in more time on his studies than his peers these days because he's practically the only one without a social life. At least his parents will be thrilled with the grades he's getting. On balance, however, he thinks he'd rather have friends. Cramming for tests used to be a lot more fun in a group, albeit not without distractions.

"I guess that's true, but..." Lu Han shrugs. "It's still a lot of work."

Minseok turns his desk chair backwards and straddles it while he works on his apple. The small wooden desks are on opposite sides of the room, and were originally facing walls, presumably so they couldn't be distracted by each other while they worked. Once he'd lost his roommate, however, Lu Han had decided he didn't care for the view and had turned his sideways, figuring there wouldn't be anyone else around to care.

Only now he has a roommate again, and Minseok seems in no hurry to face his own desk. Lu Han can take a break. He's finished everything that's due over the next few days, anyway.

"My school back in Dollet wasn't so great, either," Minseok says. "The teachers didn't know how to make the lessons interesting. I think I'm going to like it better here."

"Is that why you transferred? More exciting classes?"

"There was that one chemistry lesson with the liquid nitrogen that would be hard to top, but mostly, yeah. How about you? You're from Deling City, right?"

Lu Han nods, finishing the final bite and wrapping the core carefully in a tissue before depositing it in the corner bin. "The most beautiful place I'd ever been, until I came here."

He opens up the folder on his computer where he files his photos, and Minseok drags his chair over to have a look. If Esthar is all metal and glass, Deling City is all sculpted marble and highly polished wood - an older, simpler style, though breathtaking in itself. Lu Han shows Minseok the enormous gateway with its stone gargoyles keeping watch over all who pass beneath, and even a building as mundane and functional as the station is decked out with warm, dark paintings, inviting travellers inside to gaze at the ornate clock overhead, set in elaborate swirls of gold. Each picture depicts a scene more elegant than the last.

That is, until Lu Han scrolls too far through the list. Suddenly the pictures are not just of scenery and architecture, the only humans being random strangers caught in the background, but Lu Han's in them too. With friends. He closes the folder quickly.

"Was that you?" Minseok asks. "You look so young there!"

He's being kind; Lu Han _always_ looks young. He can't wait until he has to start shaving. People won't mistake him for a twelve year-old then.

"Middle school," he says. "Long time ago." His attempt to keep his tone light fails, because Minseok gives him a curious look and changes the subject.

"Do you have any photos of Esthar? I haven't seen anything of the city yet."

Lu Han opens up a different folder, shows him pics he took when he first arrived in Esthar, the day before his classes had started. The skyways, the shopping mall, the airstation...everything's a clean, orderly combination of cool, crystalline blues, sea green, and shining silver, much brighter than Deling City. Somewhat sterile too, though Lu Han likes that the street cleaners are much more efficient than those back home. It's nice not to have to pay too much attention to where he's walking.

"You're not in any of these," Minseok observes.

"I was by myself." _As always_ , is the part he doesn't bother to add.

There's an awkward lull in the conversation, but damned if Lu Han's going to be the one to push past it. He's good at remaining silent, waiting things out. So's Minseok, from the looks of things, but he still breaks first.

"You know," he begins, "the kids here really don't seem that bad? Maybe if you just-"

"Tried talking to them?" Lu Han suggests, interrupting what he's sure will be a well-meaning speech. "I did, when I first came here, and that worked out great for a while. And then they stopped talking back. My last roommate asked to be transferred to any room he didn't have to share with me."

"Why?"

"If I knew, maybe I could do something about it. Everyone's polite, just..."

Minseok glances at the door, then back to Lu Han, his expression thoughtful. "Well, you're not getting rid of _this_ roommate so easily. Not unless you beat people up in your sleep or something."

 _You have no idea_ , Lu Han thinks, but he's confident enough now in his ability to control his body in the other world without affecting this one, and it's not as if he can make his scimitar materialise here. (He's tried.) Minseok should be safe.

"Only if they sit on my bed."

"Oh?" Minseok leaves his chair to pretend he's going to sit down on Lu Han's bed, so Lu Han goes to swat him away, laughing at his feigned cry of pain. He's missed this, messing around with friends, teasing each other, making each other laugh. This is the most at peace he's felt since that dream after his first summoning. If Minseok stays...perhaps Lu Han will get to have the high school experience he wants, after all.

\-----

"That's sweet," Jongin says. "I didn't know you guys had been friends since high school."

"He was pretty much my only friend in high school," Lu Han says. "He's very important to me."

"I can see that."

Lu Han has his doubts, because Jongin doesn't have a good grasp of subtlety when it comes to _feelings_ \- not that Lu Han's ever tried to be subtle about his own. Still, Jongin's had his moments of jealousy, and Lu Han debates over how much to share with him. He could tell the story as it happened, without colouring it with his own feelings, or he could trust Jongin with another key piece of his past.

Trust is exactly what Jongin wants from him, so the decision should be simple, but...

"I had no idea he was going to turn out to be another Summon, back then," Lu Han says. "For weeks I thought he was a regular guy, so of course I couldn't talk to him about killing monsters in another world. Minseok's really even-tempered but even he'd have thought I was crazy."

"You are, but I think he's too nice to hold that against you."

Jongin doesn't look any more forgiving but Lu Han finds the attempt at humour encouraging, a sign that perhaps Jongin's anger is beginning to wane. "He's a better friend to me than I probably deserve," Lu Han says. He wants to say something else, about how friendship wasn't all he'd wanted back then, but if he's going to talk about it at all, it should be at the proper place, giving Jongin a chance, maybe, to see why he'd felt that way.

Assuming Jongin will even understand, and that Lu Han can bring himself to explain. Perhaps it will only make things worse, drive Jongin further away from him, or from the group as a whole. They haven't been together so long in this lifetime that Lu Han's willing to risk them falling out, on the assumption that they will always find a way to make it work. Their shared past is no guarantee of that, no matter how tempting it seems as a dream to cling to.

And Lu Han is used to clinging to his dreams despite all odds.

\-----

As expected, Minseok soon finds his feet, settling down both academically and socially. He continues to be open and friendly with everyone - and when the sportier students learn he's into football, they become more enthusiastic in their overtures of friendship - but he never forgets his roommate. They go into the city together on weekends, hitting the shops, seeing the sights, taking dumb photos from the skyway. Even outside of scheduled practices they kick the ball around outside after class whether anyone else joins them or not. At meals they alternate: sometimes they sit by themselves, and sometimes Lu Han allows Minseok to drag him over to one of the occupied tables, where he gets a round of polite greetings and the occasional word from one of his classmates. It's better than nothing, at any rate.

Minseok manages to fit in everywhere. He's usually taciturn, but when he does talk, people listen. He's sporty, but he also has a nice singing voice and he's not afraid to use it. When one of the seniors collapses in the hallway between classes, he's strong enough to carry him to the school doctor's office - but he's kind and gentle enough that the girls talk about him in not-so-hushed voices and speculate on which of them might be his type. The teachers like him. The students like him. Lu Han likes him.

A lot.

Lu Han's still trying to figure out what that means when his otherworldly adventures become sufficiently complicated that all his concentration goes on keeping himself in line. He's already experienced his materia orb passing from one master to another (he doesn't know what happened to the guy in the armour, but his replacement, a tall, blonde woman with a whip, is much nicer), but that's just one orb, one other self. So far he's been doing a reasonable job of remaining steady when summoned, even during class, and with practice it's easier for him to distance the schoolboy from the swordsman.

What he hadn't counted on, however, is the appearance of a second materia orb. With a second master comes twice as many summonings and fewer clear periods when he can simply be himself - whoever that might be. Within a week of the second he has a third, and suddenly word of his abilities has spread enough that he doesn't have to explain himself. His masters know who he is - or at least, who they _think_ he is - and what he can do.

Lu Han's less terrified now. He trusts in his skills, and knows that no matter what hurts he sustains in the other world, they'll vanish when that body returns to its orb. Not that he ever lets anything come close enough to harm him. He can summon and dismiss the armour at will, though he feels it makes a more intimidating impression if he arrives wearing it (and at his size, he needs all the help he can get in that department). It's becoming almost mundane, an unusual but slightly dull extra-curricular activity the likes of which he doubts his school would encourage. Even though he's learning more all the time, about the monsters in the other world (before he kills them), and about the other types of materia (one of his masters has a couple of Magic orbs), it's not doing him any good in what he thinks of as his 'real' life. Maybe if he were writing a fantasy novel.

He'd think it all to be a strange, occasionally beautiful dream, were it not for the fact that he's painfully aware of being awake. Most of the time, at least. Sometimes he's summoned in his sleep, and then there's a strange pop in the back of his mind, a piece of himself detaching from the rest - there if he focuses on it, but he chooses not to, allowing himself to slumber on. He'd exhaust himself if he gave his full attention to all his selves, especially at times when they're all active and his head's swimming from the confusing situational mix.

Seeking counselling has crossed his mind, once or twice, but he's been brought up to think of that as accepting weakness; although he knows, logically, that this is untrue, he never pursues the notion. What would he say? That he's splitting into separate selves to slay monsters in another world? It would likely put a swift end to his plans to graduate from high school.

It's hard, though. Sometimes he's so distracted he doesn't even notice the ball flying towards him until he's curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach, with Minseok asking him where his head is today. It's worse in class, where he has to dig his nails into his wrist to keep his mind in one place, and his teachers look at him worriedly when they catch him at it. The pain helps. The angry red slashes in his skin fade soon enough; some days there are none at all. He can't exactly tell his teachers that he's practising to push his other selves away.

He can't tell Minseok either. That's worst of all. He has this fantastic roommate, who seems to genuinely like him, and is liked by him in return, and if he had any idea about all this...

Keeping quiet is worth it, even if it's driving him nuts. He figures the stress must be behind that crazy tree dream - it's not enough to do battle in another world, he has to dream about an entirely different struggle as well. He knows it's not another materia orb. No masters and no weapons, only the motions of his hands, and he's seen it twice more now. There's a word for what he's doing, _telekinesis_ , though he's only found it in fiction. He's not forcing the red storm back by touching it physically. His hands move, but not nearly enough for the effect they produce. The power is coming from inside him.

Pity it can't keep the shadows away. They come a little nearer each time. He'd prefer not to learn what happens when they finally reach him.

He realises he's not the only one being haunted the first time he wakes to find Minseok in the throes of a nightmare. It's not immediately apparent. Minseok's muttering quietly to himself, low enough that Lu Han can't make out the words; he assumes he's simply never noticed his roommate talking in his sleep before and rolls over so one ear is pressed against the pillow, muffling the sound. He can ignore the sleeptalking.

It's harder to ignore the flailing. There's a thump of an arm hitting the mattress, then the rub of bare feet sliding frantically across the sheets. When Lu Han looks over, Minseok's tossing from side to side, twisting his whole body uneasily. It's too dark to see much; Lu Han flicks the switch on his bedside lamp to see the desperation on Minseok's face. He's plainly terrified by whatever he's seeing in his dreams.

Lu Han knows the feeling well. He crosses to the other bed, about to kneel beside it when Minseok's hand catches him in the chin on his way down. He rocks back, almost overbalancing, but the impact seems to have done some good, at least - Minseok shudders, snatching his hand back towards his chest, awake enough to realise that he's not alone. His eyes are wider than Lu Han's ever seen them. Panic makes him look younger, more vulnerable. A protective urge wells up inside Lu Han: whatever the nightmare is, he's determined to help.

Which would be all very well if Minseok were interested in talking about it, but he isn't, and those are the only words Lu Han can get out of him. To be fair, it's hard to speak through chattering teeth. Minseok's freezing all over. The duvet's pushed right the way down to the end of the bed; his tracksuit pants and thin T-shirt aren't doing much to suppress the shivers. Lu Han rummages in drawers for socks and a sweatshirt, then grabs an oversized jumper for good measure. Students aren't allowed kettles in their rooms, so unless he wants to try to break into the kitchens, he's limited in ways to warm things up.

He wrestles Minseok into the extra clothes, shocked by how cold he is. His arms feel like clubs of ice. It must've been quite some nightmare. There are gloves somewhere, but Lu Han doesn't know where so he tugs the ends of the sweatshirt over Minseok's hands and holds them between his own, ignoring Minseok's baffled expression and focusing on how stiff his fingers are beneath the fabric. It's not like they're holding hands, right? Not really. This is...Lu Han trying to massage life back into his friend's fingers. So what if they're sitting on the same bed, staring at each other by lamplight?

"You're frozen," Lu Han says, keeping his voice low because it's the middle of the night and it's possible that somewhere in the building, someone might actually be sleeping. "Just don't fight me on this, okay? I'm trying to help you get warm."

Minseok unclenches his jaws enough to speak; his teeth are no longer chattering, not that he seems any the warmer. "Then give me my duvet?"

It means letting go. Lu Han does it anyway, reluctantly releasing Minseok's hands to pull the duvet back up the bed. Minseok tucks his wrapped hands into his armpits for warmth, leaving Lu Han to arrange the duvet around him as he huddles in on himself - which leaves Lu Han out in the cold, as it were. Nevertheless, he keeps his seat on the edge of the bed. He might be younger but he's Minseok's senior here and it would be irresponsible of him to go back to sleep without ensuring that his roommate is properly settled...right?

"Do you need more layers?" Lu Han offers. There has to be something else he can do. "Or there might be heating pads or something in the doctor's office?"

"I'll be fine." Minseok's shoulders are up by his ears; Lu Han tries to remember where the scarves are because that can't possibly be comfortable. "It was only a bad dream." He adds, mostly to himself, "I think."

"You must've been dreaming about turning into a snowman."

"Not me. I-" Minseok cuts himself off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. You might as well go back to sleep."

"Not until I'm satisfied that you're okay."

"It was only a nightmare!"

Lu Han remains stubbornly on the bed. "And you're still shivering."

"It'll pass." Minseok wriggles further down under the covers. "Did I hit you?"

"I think my chin will survive. Next time I'll hide behind a pillow when I try to wake you."

"There isn't going to be a next time," Minseok says firmly; then, softer: "Sorry. I wasn't aiming for you."

He's the strongest guy in their year. "If you'd been aiming for me, I'd be missing half my teeth," Lu Han says. "I'd make you clean up all the blood."

Minseok mutters something that sounds like: "I've seen enough blood for one night." When Lu Han asks him to repeat it, it comes out as: "Would you mind getting the light?"

The light. Of course. They have classes in the morning and experience has taught them it's never safe to sleep through a chemistry lesson. Lu Han switches off the lamp but pauses beside his bed, focused on what he can still see of Minseok by the ambient light. He can't seem to stay still. There's constant shuffling under the duvet, a rustle of hands that emerge to cradle a pale face, and Lu Han wonders if his roommate is crying. He's seen Minseok annoyed, but never upset. His nightmare must've really done a number on him.

Lu Han's legs carry him to the other bed before he's even made a conscious decision to move. Minseok's not crying. He is, however, patting himself all over, like he's checking for damage. It's disturbingly familiar...but it can't be the same thing, can it? Lu Han's been a Summon for months now and none of his masters have ever mentioned that another of his kind exists. Everyone wants one, if only because they're so rare. He's more popular in that world than he's ever been in his own.

But what if it's true? What if Minseok's been fighting monsters, and now he's confused and horrified and too damned stoic to even mention it? Lu Han remembers his own reactions, those first few times. No one should have to deal with that alone. He might be wrong, but even if he is...

He takes a deep breath, working himself up to it, and asks, "Can I?"

"Can you...?" Minseok says, then notices Lu Han gripping the edge of the duvet. "I think you're more upset about this than I am. But you're warm, so..."

He shifts across the mattress to make room, and Lu Han slides in next to him so they lie back to back, with Minseok caught between him and the wall. Lu Han's not used to sharing beds. A few times as a young kid, sleeping over at a friend's house; never as a teenager, when puberty and a growing awareness of other bodies make such situations awkward. His own bed is strictly off-limits to others and he plans to keep it that way - it's his safe space, where he can sleep undisturbed. (Relatively. Undisturbed in his own world, anyway.) Minseok is evidently less bothered by having a guest.

It unsettles Lu Han to have someone else's shoulderblades pressing into his back, even though they're no longer quivering with cold. He's not sure if he'd feel any less awkward facing the other way. More so, probably, because even with Minseok still facing the wall, it would be markedly more intimate. And where else would his arms go but around Minseok? He's out of practice with hugs as it is. Backhugging his roommate while in bed is...

...more appealing than he's comfortable acknowledging right now. This is _such_ a bad time to be thinking about it. Yet...this is the closest Lu Han's been to anyone for years. He's lying beside the only person who's stuck by him at this school, who actively seeks his company and doesn't seem to care that no one else does. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he's both relieved and exhilarated. He's also nervous. What if he turns over in his sleep? What if he ends up lying on Minseok, and Minseok decides that maybe he doesn't want such a clingy friend?

There's not much he can do about it, short of staying awake for the rest of the night, and he doesn't care for that option, either. Lu Han's just here to provide warmth - that's it. (That Minseok is not the only person getting something out of the arrangement is neither here nor there.) He can't be held responsible for any movement he makes while he's asleep. He tries to relax, concentrating on the rhythm of his breaths to lure himself away from the waking world.

Behind him, Minseok is slowly warming up. He's stopped patting himself down and one of his hands rests on his thigh where it backs onto Lu Han's. Lu Han's half-asleep by the time he feels Minseok's fingers squeezing his in silent thanks. Minseok's asleep by the time Lu Han feels brave enough to squeeze back.

Waking up is, if possible, even more excruciating than going to sleep back to back had been. Minseok hasn't moved, but Lu Han has. He's mortified to find himself spooned around his roommate, chest to back, one arm going numb beneath him while the other is draped lazily over Minseok's hip. He freezes, worried that if he retreats too fast, he'll disturb him. Minseok has to remain asleep until Lu Han can safely extricate himself, preferably making it to the bathroom to do something about the tent in his shorts. There's no way this situation can become any more embarrassing.

Or so he thinks.

"I know you're awake now," Minseok says, in the voice of someone who has definitely been conscious for more than five minutes. "I didn't want to disturb you, but you're kind of digging into my back, and-"

"Oh!" Mortified, Lu Han scrambles away. In his rush to escape, he gets tangled in the duvet and ends up on the floor. His humiliation is complete.

Minseok rolls over on the mattress, snagging the duvet and pulling it back where it belongs. "I didn't say you could take it with you."

Lu Han groans, making no move to rise from the floor. Maybe when his bruised dignity recovers, which will be, oh, when he's about sixty or so. Minseok will have graduated by then. "Sorry. About...um...everything."

"You didn't do anything."

"I wouldn't have!"

"That's not what your last roommate thought." Minseok slides off the bed, joining Lu Han on the floor so he can speak without having to look down at him. "I talked to him - just to make sure you didn't turn into an axe murderer at night, or something."

_An axe? No. But sometimes a scimitar..._

"W-what did he say about me?"

"The same thing I keep hearing from everyone else. Did you know you apparently have a string of boyfriends back in Deling City and the story is that your parents sent you here to keep you away from them?"

Lu Han's mouth falls open. He's completely taken aback. "Huh?"

"It gets worse." Minseok grins, clearly taking it all with a pinch of salt. "Some of them think you're actually a girl in disguise. It's the pretty face."

"Why would they even think any of that?" Lu Han protests, furiously indignant. "You know I'm not a girl."

"As of this morning I can definitely confirm that."

Lu Han curses under his breath. His roommate's enjoying this far too much. But those idiots! It's not as if they've never seen him showering after practice.

"Is that how you talk to your string of boyfriends?" Minseok teases, and Lu Han scowls at him in silence. "Not that it's any of my business. But if you don't want rumours to start, you might want to consider going along next time our neighbours sneak into one of the girls' dorms."

One of the more frequently broken school rules is that boys and girls are not allowed in each other's dorms, and can only socialise in communal areas. Not that this stops either side from paying clandestine visits.

"I kept turning them down," Lu Han says. "I didn't really know any of the girls, so I didn't see the point in going. Eventually they stopped asking."

Minseok nods sagely. "I think the point was to go so you could get to know them."

"So that's why they kept asking me what my type was..."

Lu Han hadn't come to school to find a girlfriend. He hadn't come to find a boyfriend, either, and now he's bitterly regretting having given his fellow students the impression that not only is he not interested in girls, he's an ardent lover of boys. He wishes he'd taken the questions and invitations more seriously, back then, not having realised how his reluctance to participate might seem.

"Your ex-roommate was polite about it, mostly, but he did warn me I should ask for a transfer _just in case_."

"You haven't asked, have you?"

"I told you I wouldn't, and I haven't." Minseok shrugs. "Like I said, it's none of my business. I know it's looked at as weird in Esthar, but it's not like that where I'm from, okay? You're my friend, and I don't have time for anyone who has a problem with that."

Lu Han could hug him for that, although he thinks he's done enough hugging for one morning. "Thanks. It's nice to finally know why I'm being shunned, even if it's too late to do anything about it."

Minseok makes a delicate suggestion. "You could find a girl you like and go into the city with her on the weekend instead of me?"

"I could." Lu Han's reply is equally careful. "But I'm not good at talking to girls. Besides, I wouldn't want to leave you all by yourself."

They both know full well Minseok's not hurting for company. "You're not that great at talking to guys either," he points out, but Lu Han can see he's amused.

It's not fair. Lu Han can't do anything about his face, short of deliberately disfiguring himself, and that's a high price to pay to stop people from forming the wrong idea about him. And just because he hasn't yet found a girl he connects with enough to pursue, doesn't mean he's not interested. It'll happen when it happens. His old friends back in Deling City had thought that too, back before they'd all gone girl-crazy and started trying to drag him along with them. Their behaviour makes more sense now, if that's what they'd thought of him. It's too late to change their minds.

Nothing wrong with being choosy, he reasons, and he'll make his choices when he's ready - whenever that happens to be. Not that he's even sure what his choices are...

\-----

Jongin's gnawing on his lip so hard Lu Han thinks he'll bite clean through it before long. Even without peeking at his thoughts, it's not difficult to know what's running through his mind. A dozen questions at once, and it's only a matter of which wins out.

His embarrassed flush signals to Lu Han which one he's eventually decided on. "What you said, about you and Minseok...?"

"Yes?" Lu Han prompts him.

"When you were in his bed...?"

Jongin is so awkward when he has to talk with anything but his body. Fortunately, Lu Han doesn't have to depend on words actually emerging from his mouth in order to answer him.

"We were never together, if that's what you're trying to ask."

"Good." While still red, Jongin looks slightly less agitated, even a trifle pleased. "But...you wanted to be?"

"Yes." Lu Han sees no point in trying to keep this particular secret, not when it's the kind of thing that Jongin's so adamant about learning. It feels so long ago, now. Another world, if not another life. He's never told anyone, not even Minseok, and telling Jongin is...a relief, almost, if worrying at the same time. "It was the first time I'd felt so comfortable with anyone. He was everything I could ever have wanted in a friend, and he always has been."

"That's it?" Jongin seems more curious than upset.

"And he looks so cute when he eats!"

"I wouldn't know," Jongin says, side-eyeing Lu Han. "He's never eaten in front of me."

"He's less well-rounded than he used to be," Lu Han explains, "so his cheeks don't puff out quite so much. He lost a lot of weight before we graduated. Both of us grew taller, started dyeing our hair...you wouldn't have recognised us back then."

"I know you're not a natural blond," Jongin says dryly, making him laugh.

"There's more to it than that, but I don't think I could explain it any better than I could if you asked why I like you," Lu Han says. "I do. Simple as that."

"Does Minseok know?"

Lu Han shrugs. "Probably. I never told him, but we've been sharing a room since we were fifteen. That's the kind of secret that's tough to keep when you're so close."

Jongin screws up his face in thought, empathy kicking in. "That's sad. It must've been very lonely for you."

"It was still an improvement on my life before he came along."

"I don't get that, either. Why was it such a big deal that you didn't like girls?"

"I like girls too," Lu Han corrects him. "But it was a while before I figured that out. Minseok was the first time I'd liked _anyone_ like that and it was a shock to me. It wasn't...I didn't really know how I felt, let alone have anyone I could talk to who felt the same. Things are different here, Jongin. Your world might be slowly dying, but in one way, at least, it's better than being in mine."

"Your world doesn't sound so bad, the way you've described it so far?"

"Depends on who you are," Lu Han says grimly. "There was a war a few decades ago between the Galbadia and Esthar continents - lasted two years, killed a lot of people. When the dust settled, the governments all over started encouraging people to repopulate the world. If you had two kids, great, that was a replacement for the parents. If you had more than two kids, even better, they'd pay you for it. But if you weren't having the kind of sex that would lead to children..."

He pauses a moment to quash the anger welling up inside. It's easy to forget, when he's here, that he lives in a world where being honest about his desires can leave him stranded on the fringes of society. He hopes that if he and Jongin are ever able to stay together, that it will be here, or maybe even somewhere new. Anywhere where no one will look at them and think they're making a terrible mistake.

"My parents didn't need the money, and after me...they didn't want any more children. Maybe if I'd had siblings, I'd have turned out differently, but..."

"You turned out fine," Jongin says. "Even if you're impossible sometimes."

Lu Han grins at him fondly. "Baekhyun's impossible. I'm just difficult. I didn't want to do what was expected of me, and as a teenager I was too scared to even think about what it could be like if I actually told someone how I felt. It wasn't illegal, though. Only heavily frowned upon. I didn't know where to go to look for other people like me, not in my world. But when I started exploring your world a little more and realised that it didn't matter, I was able to experiment a bit."

Jongin gives him a knowing look. "In brothels."

"I didn't exactly have time to build up relationships," Lu Han points out. "And when you have no idea what you're doing, paying someone who does is a lot less stressful." He stops, horrified by Jongin's pained look, and reminds himself that given where Jongin used to work, mentioning brothels is likely not a good idea.

"Sorry," Lu Han mutters, wincing. "You get my point. I've never even kissed anyone back home, much less done anything else with them. I couldn't tell Minseok and there wasn't anyone else."

"He might've liked you back?" Jongin says, reluctantly.

Lu Han wants to reach for him, hold him, kiss all traces of doubt from his mind and assure him that whatever happens, Minseok's no threat, but given why they're out by the Candle in the first place, he's pretty sure any move he makes will backfire. The first move is up to Jongin. Thanks to his past, Jongin's used to enduring, to tuning out while he lets himself be touched, pretending that everything's fine and that this is what he wants, but he only touches back when he's fully engaged and Lu Han uses that as a gauge to measure the level of tension between them.

"I doubt it, but doesn't matter now - he stuck by me anyway. And since we're still sharing a room, I think I'd have noticed. He's never said a word about it."

"Good," Jongin says. "What about the others?"

"Baekhyun's happy I'm with you because it means more girls for him. Not that I've ever seen him manage to talk one into going out with him, but he lives in hope. And Kyungsoo makes a point of never getting involved in his friends' love lives. Too messy."

"And Zitao?"

Zitao is...complicated. And Jongin hasn't met him yet. Lu Han thinks it's best to let him introduce himself, and let the others make of him what they will. "Zitao's fine with it. He's...very tender-hearted."

Zitao's part elite warrior, part teenage girl. It's an interesting mix. With his years of martial arts training he's the only Summon who's just as deadly in his own world as he is in this one. He's also the only one who insists on taking a hundred photos of himself every day, alternating between cute and cool poses. Working in a bookshop is hardly his style but Lu Han can't picture him anywhere else now. Sooner or later they'll run across one of his orbs, and then the others will meet him.

As long as the orb doesn't wind up in Jongin's possession. Kyungsoo's no threat, but Zitao...

Lu Han shakes off the momentary pang of jealousy. They're all walking a path that could potentially save this world - or destroy it - and that's marginally more important than making sure no one else makes a move on Jongin. He still thinks it's a miracle they found each other at all, in this life, especially when he's only here for part of the time. They're destined to be together, the twelve of them. They must be, to overcome such powerful odds against them meeting each other in a world so vast.

\-----

Lu Han keeps his suspicions about Minseok to himself. Minseok doesn't want to talk about his nightmare, and when it happens a second time he's just as reticent. He lets Lu Han bundle him up in warm clothing and climb into bed beside him, and Lu Han tries to pretend he's completely unaffected by lying so close. His pretense is a dismal failure. He snuggles up to Minseok until the shivers subside, hoping his pounding heart doesn't explode before morning. Minseok must be able to hear it, surely? And then he'll know.

Know what, precisely, Lu Han isn't certain. This is _not_ how his life's supposed to go.

Then again, nothing that's happened to him since moving to Esthar was in his plan for the future, and he very much doubts anything will ever again be what he used to think of as normal. His new 'normal' involves living his life in multiple bodies while trying to keep his grades up and not make a fool of himself over his roommate. He manages, to some degree. He's considerably steadier than in the early days of his career as a Summon - more guarded, but less affected.

That steadiness comes in handy when Minseok's bad dreams stop containing themselves to night. There's ten minutes to go of their final class for the day, with Lu Han grateful that he doesn't have to give algebra any further thought until next week. They're seated next to each other at the front of the classroom, which isn't his preferred spot but there's not much he can do when the others cluster together around the desks they want. The teacher's at the back, helping another student. Everyone else is working hard on their equations.

Lu Han's already finished and looking towards the window, longing for class to be over so he can go outside. It's been raining for the past three days and now there's finally sunshine, he's desperate for some relief from being cooped up indoors. Even his other selves have been confined to their orbs, with no summonings for five days. The grass is too wet for football but there's a basketball hoop out back just begging to see some action and Minseok's promised to go one-on-one with him.

He glances across at his roommate in the hope of conveying, with subtle glances, that the game is on, but Minseok's not looking at him. Not looking at anything, in fact. His eyes are glazed over, staring sightlessly towards the front of the room while a tremble in his clenched jaws is the only indication of chattering teeth. His arms are wrapped around his chest; he hunches forward, pressing his knees together, and Lu Han figures he knows why Minseok's trying to curl up around his desk. If he touches him, he'll feel skin as cold and smooth as a sheet of ice.

Is it safe to try? He's unsure if Minseok's awake or asleep, but he's betting on the former. No muttering, no flailing, and he's obviously trying to control his shivers.

"Minseok?" Lu Han whispers, leaning across the gap between their desks. "Can you hear me?"

There's a faint twitch in Minseok's jaw, then a brief nod. Good enough.

"Do you want me to get you out of here?"

Another nod.

Lu Han stands up. If they leave now, before classes end, they'll avoid having to move through crowds. Basketball will have to wait. He has a quiet word with their teacher, explaining that Minseok's feeling ill and would it be okay if he took him out of the classroom? The teacher's sceptical but one look at Minseok's expression and she changes her mind - the tight, careful control over his facial muscles suggests he's trying not to vomit - and Lu Han slings their bags over one shoulder before helping Minseok from his seat. He doesn't look back to see what the rest of the class makes of it. He doesn't want to know.

Rather than heading to the school doctor, or the nearest bathroom, Lu Han steers Minseok through the empty corridors towards their dorm. They can't move fast - not with Minseok holding himself stiffer than a post. Slow, awkward steps eventually take them to their room, where Lu Han fumbles with his keycard, almost dropping it on the floor before he successfully swipes it across the lock. He ushers his roommate inside and snatches up the nearest duvet to wrap around him as a stopgap measure while he retrieves some gloves. (After the first time, he'd made sure to locate their winter accessories where he could find them in a hurry.)

"More of them?" Minseok asks, and Lu Han turns around quickly, not sure if he's being addressed.

"More of what?" He takes the gloves across to Minseok, whose fingers are buried somewhere in the duvet. "More gloves? I can try to get two pairs on your hands, but you'll have to uncover them first."

Minseok's not even listening. Empty eyes watch the wall, not a muscle moving in response to Lu Han's speech. "I can't fight them," he says, voice laced with shame and fear. "I don't have anything left."

He sounds so weary, drained to his limits, that Lu Han lets the gloves fall from his hands and reaches for him. This isn't like Minseok at all. Even in situations where he's outmatched, he never gives up, striving with a smile until he reaches his goal. Lu Han's never seen him fall. Never even seen him stumble.

Lu Han has half an arm around his friend's shoulders when there's a pop at the back of his mind, signalling that one of his selves has just been summoned. He casts a quick glance inward, long enough to note that it's the whip-wielding blonde who's called him out this time...but she's not alone.

Surrounded by a ring of melting icicles and scraps of metal, an exhausted, shaking Minseok stands beside her.

It's as Lu Han feared. Minseok's _here_ , his hair and school uniform dripping wet, all his energy spent. He's unarmed and plainly in distress, and when Lu Han turns to look behind him, he understands why. A trio of Armoured Golems are lumbering towards them, footsteps like the rumble of thunder on the hard, dry ground. A whip won't do much against them and whatever Minseok used to eliminate the first batch, it doesn't seem like he'll be able to do it again. Lu Han can sympathise. Fighting like this is exhausting, especially to begin with. Minseok can't have been at this long. Surely Lu Han would've heard about another Summon by now, if he had.

"Why are you-" Minseok tries to ask, in that other world, and Lu Han hears his voice through two sets of ears. Minseok hasn't learned to completely split himself out, to keep the distance he'll need in order to survive. Lu Han will have to teach him.

But first, the monsters.

"I'll explain soon," Lu Han promises. He knows how strange he must look, in his shining mythril armour, clutching a sharp blue scimitar. "I'll take care of this first. _Zantetsuken_!"

The world blurs as he turns, his sword slicing through the golems as though their armour plating and solid stone bodies are no more substantial than paper. He finishes with a flourish, sweeping low as he spins back to face his master. She's not even watching, all her attention on Minseok, now on his knees, eyes fluttering closed. Lu Han's never seen anyone disappear before, being unable to watch himself vanish back into his orb, but now he has the chance. Minseok doesn't fade out. One moment he's there, the next he's gone, and Lu Han notices that the formerly empty materia slot next to his in the whip's handle is home to another red gem. When his master thanks him, he's close enough to read Minseok's name.

Back in their dorm room, Lu Han has his work cut out for him. Minseok's incredulous, confused, upset and relieved all at once, every question prompted by a different emotion. At least he's completely _there_ , now, and no longer chilled. He's still badly shaken, however, and he doesn't protest too much when Lu Han picks up the fallen duvet and wraps it back around his shoulders.

"That wasn't the first time for you, was it?" Minseok asks while Lu Han's still debating where to start. "You knew what you were doing."

Lu Han admits he's been at this for months now - although he maintains that doesn't necessarily have a bearing on whether or not he knows what he's doing. "It does get easier with practice," he adds. "How about you?"

"That was the third time," Minseok admits. "The first couple of times were at night - you remember?"

Lu Han remembers only too well. He nods. "Did you have a weapon?"

Minseok slashes one arm in front of him, mimicking Lu Han's actions towards the Armoured Golems. "Nothing like yours. I don't even know how to describe what I did."

"Try?"

"Have you ever felt a strong urge to say something and you have no idea why?"

He wouldn't have, before, but now he knows exactly what Minseok means. "My sword," Lu Han says. "It's called _Zantetsuken_. I always say it when I attack. I can't help it. What do you say?"

" _Diamond Dust_. And when I do, it's like I'm calling up a storm of ice crystals. Killer ice crystals. Even the first time, and I'm just as confused now as I was then."

"Maybe I can help with that."

Lu Han explains as best he can about his own experiences being summoned, what he's learned so far about his limits and the little he's seen of the other world. Unfortunately, he has no answer for Minseok's most pressing question - why? In that regard he's as much in the dark now as he was when this whole bizarre situation began.

"I don't know why it's happening, or how we can stop it," he finishes. "But you need to learn how to separate yourself, or you'll zone out like you did in class today, and it'll only get harder to concentrate if you end up with more materia orbs. I've got three. The person you saw with the sword - that's me, but also not me, and you weren't you. I mean-" Lu Han cuts himself off with a burst of incredulous laughter. This whole thing is insane. Just talking about it should be enough to get them both committed.

Minseok pats him on the arm, with fingers that are no longer freezing. "How do you manage with three? I couldn't even focus in class with one."

"Practice. Lots of practice." Lu Han describes how he pushes his other selves away in his mind, leaving them to their own devices even though they're all technically the same person. "It helps if I ground myself in this body, too." He presses his nails lightly into his wrist; Minseok grimaces and nods as the idea sinks in. "Next time I could try to talk you through it? You heard me while you were over there, even when I wasn't."

"You're quiet, but I hear you everywhere." Minseok grins, shrugging the duvet off his shoulders and leaning back against the wall next to his bed.

Lu Han follows; the two of them stretch out, dangling their feet over the side of the mattress as they sit beside each other. In a way he's relieved that it's all out in the open now. He can stop trying to hide what's becoming an increasingly large part of himself (or selves) and finally talk to someone who's going through the same thing. Maybe together they'll be able to discover why this is happening to them.

But as relieved as Lu Han feels, he's also concerned. He wouldn't wish this life on his worst enemy, never mind his closest friend. At least they have a master in common - for now. He's not optimistic enough to believe she'll be able to keep them both indefinitely.

"I'll do what I can to help," he promises. "We'll get through this together."

And they do, somehow. The next time Minseok's summoned, they're at lunch, and Lu Han has to squeeze Minseok's wrist to get his attention long enough to talk him into letting go. That's...probably not going to help with the rumour about his string of boyfriends back in Deling City. They're eating together at a corner table; Lu Han hopes no one notices and especially that no one overhears, because describing how to disengage from a body in another world is not the usual lunchtime chatter, even for teenagers with overactive imaginations. He knows the moment Minseok uses his attack. The skin beneath his fingers turns cold. There's no reason for it. It's magic, but not here. There's no magic in this world. Minseok's body only thinks there is, because he thinks his separate selves are one.

And they are, but they're not.

"Let it go," Lu Han orders him. "Push that part of yourself away. You're here, with me. Hang on to that."

Minseok does, tensing up from concentration, and gradually, while Lu Han continues to talk to him, the temperature of his skin begins to rise. He's not so pale, when Lu Han looks at him - not a character in someone else's dream, fading into the background. He's substantial and solid and undeniably _there_.

"You did it," Lu Han whispers, both pleased and proud; Minseok's smile says everything his silence does not.

Minseok's control isn't as tight as Lu Han's, not yet, and it takes a few more sessions before he can remain almost completely unaffected by his behaviour in the other world. Which is just as well, because his second materia orb ends up with someone who doesn't have one of Lu Han's and he only has his own power to depend on. Power, he assures Lu Han, he can't explain in the slightest.

"I don't get it either," Lu Han says with a shrug. "I've never held a sword in my life, and suddenly I can slice monsters into bite-size pieces with just a couple of moves. You freezing things to death with magic isn't any weirder than that."

Magic's the only way they can explain what Minseok does. It has to be. He can't do it in their world. (Lu Han's had fun watching him try.) It makes about as much sense as the monsters so weird their species can't even be guessed at, and the ridiculous notion that people live in round, brightly coloured jewels and can be called out for battle. They try using each other's abilities, once, but find the words have no effect.

They try other things, too, because Minseok thinks turning up to freeze monsters in his school uniform does not look terribly impressive, and so he practises what Lu Han tells him about changing his appearance when he's summoned. Evidently it works, though Lu Han's never around to see it.

"You've seen me in armour," he complains. "I want to see what you're wearing."

They only have to wear their uniforms during the school day, so it's not as if he's never seen Minseok in casual clothing before, but he's curious as to what sort of outfit might suit a Summon wielding Ice magic. Maybe cute, fluffy jumpers covered in snowflakes? He enjoys the pictures his imagination conjures up - enjoys most of what his imagination conjures up, to be honest, when it relates to Minseok, and that still terrifies him because he has no idea what to do about it. He can't tell, now, if Minseok's summoned at night because they both sleep through it, so no more snuggling for warmth in the dark. At least that means he's less likely to do something embarrassing in his sleep. As long as he never actually says anything, matters can continue as they are. (The things he'd like to say are too awkward to ask, like if Minseok's ever kissed anyone before - and regardless of the answer, would he be interested in some discreet experimentation with his roommate?)

Everything he's ever heard condemns what he's feeling now as shameful, as a waste of time and energy that could be better spent finding a nice girl to marry and have children with. Yet he can't help thinking that of everything that's happened since he came to Esthar, slicing monsters into tiny chunks up to a dozen times a week is far more harmful than gazing longingly at his friend and wishing for some way to put his feelings into words. He's a feared and brutally efficient killer in another world. In his own, he's just a sad teenage boy with a crush.

Minseok either never notices, or pretends not to notice. It doesn't make any difference, not when they have other reasons for becoming closer. Sharing a secret makes the days seem brighter, even if some days they only discuss it to compare kills - whenever they learn the name of another monster, or anything else about the world they now both visit far too frequently, they pass on the information.

Before long, they have more than names. Lu Han returns from his shower one evening to find Minseok transferring photos from his camera to his computer, and immediately sneaks up behind him for a peek. The pictures are not, contrary to his expectations, taken around the school, or even in Esthar. They're from that other world. Lu Han gasps as the screen is filled with a pack of Kalm Fangs, snarling purple wolves with teeth he can still feel tearing into his skin.

Hearing him, Minseok turns, automatically reaching to click away from the open picture until he sees who it is. "The pictures came out," he says happily. "I thought they might disappear or something, since they don't belong here."

"How did you get these?" Lu Han leans forward, nudging Minseok's hand out of the way so he can scroll through the pictures himself. There are at least a dozen monsters here, all things Minseok's said he's fought over the past fortnight, but there are scenic shots too, of beaches and forests and snow-covered fields. Seeing them here, in their dorm room...it's like they've brought a piece of that other world home, and Lu Han's not at all sure he likes that.

"I thought I'd try taking my camera through," Minseok says, sounding proud enough to burst. "I couldn't make it appear just by thinking about it, but when I held it," he holds out his cupped hands to illustrate, "I could pass it through to myself."

"And when were you going to tell me?"

"When I had a more impressive collection to show you." Minseok makes a grab for the computer but Lu Han evades him and keeps scrolling, stopping when he finds a photograph that definitely doesn't feature any monsters.

It's not a terribly good picture because the angle's so awkward, but Lu Han likes it anyway. Minseok doesn't, judging by his pained expression.

"Good thing you're not grimacing like that in the picture," Lu Han says. He sends a copy to himself, ignoring his roommate's groan. "I like the clothes. Very...wintry."

Minseok in the photo is holding the camera on himself, meaning he's cut off so that Lu Han can't see the entire outfit. There's enough for him to get the gist, however. A frosted white jacket, trimmed in silver and covering an ice-blue tank top. There's a dark brown belt and a thin strip of pale denim peeking out below the jacket. It's not an outfit Minseok has over here, Lu Han knows - and that goes double for the red hair and black-painted fingernails. It's a good look on him, though. A _really_ good look.

"I was experimenting," Minseok explains. "I always wondered what I'd look like if I dyed my hair, and it seemed a good way to test it out."

"You should do it," Lu Han says immediately. "Here. The school doesn't have any rules against it."

"You think it suits me?"

Lu Han doesn't trust himself not to go overboard answering that one, so settles for nodding vigorously. He likes the nail polish too. The whole ensemble transforms Minseok from a cute schoolboy into something far more dangerous, an elegant, pale prince who cuts down his enemies with shards of pure ice. Lu Han wishes he'd been able to see Minseok like that in person, but that's not likely to happen any time soon. One of them is usually sufficient to wipe out any threat to their single shared master, and she hasn't called them both out again.

"I'll do it too," he volunteers. Solidarity, and all that. "What do you think would suit me?"

Minseok doesn't hesitate. "Blond. Red would work for you too, but if we go the same colour..." He doesn't need to finish his sentence. The implication is only too clear. There's enough gossip about them already, since they spend far more time together than apart.

The following weekend they make good on their agreement, returning from the hairdresser with freshly dyed hair. Their headmaster tells Lu Han he looks like something out of a comic book now, which seems appropriate for a guy whose life could've come straight from a work of fiction. Judging by the stares he gets from the girls, though, he suspects they see him more as one half of a high school romance than a dashing young action hero. He'd settle for the lead in a sports series, even.

He tries taking a camera through himself - though it's not easy to operate while wearing gauntlets - and ends up with a blurry, out of focus shot of himself in armour, wisps of gold hair only just in the frame. It's a terrible picture. Minseok laughs when he sees it, then promptly steals a copy for himself. Lu Han doesn't mind _too_ much. They have to take their amusement where they find it.

Things aren't so amusing when Lu Han falls prey to the cold that's sent half his classmates to their beds, coughing and sneezing. He feels too wretched to leave the room for anything less critical than a trip to the bathroom. Minseok brings him hot drinks and boxes of tissues, along with reports of how their classes are falling to pieces, the teachers succumbing alongside their students. Not much in the way of knowledge is being imparted this week.

Lu Han thinks it's desperately unfair that he's sick enough to be forced to stay in bed, yet can still be summoned. On the other hand, having another body does have its benefits. When he materialises in the other world, he takes his first clear breath in three days, forgetting that he should probably be chopping something dangerous into bits because it feels so good to not be clogged up anymore. He remains still, breathing deeply until his latest master, a spiky-haired blond man with a large, dark tattoo covering one side of his face, reminds him that he's not here for his health.

Too bad. This is the best Lu Han's felt in days. Sighing inwardly, he disposes of a pair of Behemoths, hoping he won't have to go back straight after. He hasn't been with this master long enough to have much energy to spare following an attack. He sags against a tree afterwards, wondering if it's possible that his sickness is sapping his energy even here.

"You look like you could use one of these." His master takes out a Potion bottle and tosses it at Lu Han. "Here, catch!"

Fortunately, Lu Han's no longer holding his sword, so he manages to catch the bottle instead of shattering it. His energetic, boisterous master doesn't always think before he acts, but his heart's in the right place and Lu Han smiles in thanks as he disappears.

Like the camera, and other things he's since taken through and brought back, the bottle is still in his hands. To his great dismay, however, it's now empty. So much for drinking a Potion to cure his cold. He doesn't throw it against the wall, much though he'd like to.

"You weren't holding that a minute ago," Minseok says. He's reading on his bed, keeping half an eye on his ailing roommate. "What did you bring back?"

"It was supposed to be a Potion," Lu Han mutters, setting the bottle down on the nightstand. "But it dried up when I brought it through."

Despite the best efforts of modern medicine, there's not much Lu Han can do to speed up his recovery...but when Minseok brings him a mug of hot soup and rubs his shoulders, he starts to feel better anyway.

He feels even better that night, immersed in a dream with a face he hasn't seen in a while. It's the first time he's dreamed about the young man with the beautiful smile since his first summoning. There's no less warmth, for all that they might as well be strangers. No longer on a porch, they're inside a house, sitting on a couch with a trio of tiny, fluffy dogs around them - one on each lap, and the third between them. Lu Han's friend, whoever he is, obviously loves them very much. He talks to the dogs like they're his own children, petting them with such care and delicacy that Lu Han's almost jealous, wanting such a tender touch for himself. He's never had that before...

...but maybe he has, because now the dogs are jumping down to the floor to avoid being squished as the stranger shuffles across the gap, leaning towards Lu Han with an open heart. Lu Han feels his own quicken in response. He's never kissed anyone before, in his own world or any other, but this is a dream, and in dreams it's okay to try. No witnesses, save the dogs, and no consequences either.

He lets himself be drawn in with a gentle hand on the back of his neck; long, strong fingers welcoming, rather than threatening. This is nothing new to them. Lu Han has a flash of familiarity, a realisation that he knows the body beneath the thin black tank top and shorts, and intimately, at that. Not having a name to put to the face makes this all the more frustrating. He'd like to know whose lips are inviting his to join them in a soft, slow kiss; at first a light brush, then a longer, lingering pressure that has Lu Han's insides melting. He's been fantasising about what this would be like with Minseok, but this man's been in his head since before he even met Minseok - in his head and in his heart, though he can hardly be cheating, given that he's not in a relationship with either of them.

It's too confusing to think about when he's got a pair of eager arms wrapping themselves around him, clinging tight. Far better to relax and enjoy. Lu Han runs his hands up his dream-lover's back, aiming for his hair but stopping when he finds a band of leather, a thin dark strip fastened with tiny silver buckles around his neck. It's a collar, like those worn by the three fluffy puppies, only this one is designed for their owner. It's a pretty accessory, a deep, purplish black. It doesn't go with the rest of the stranger's outfit, and Lu Han wonders why he's wearing it...until he catches sight of the silver-stitched deer along the side.

That's too specific to be a coincidence. He's making out with a guy who happens to have a deer - the meaning of the character representing his surname - on a collar. It's a statement about as subtle as a name tattoo. Lu Han grins, running his fingers along the edge of the collar and wondering whose idea it was. He suspects it was probably his.

His remaining years of high school are filled with dreams of the beautiful young man with the puppies, though he still has no clue as to his identity, or why he should be dreaming about being in love with someone he's never met. That they _are_ in love, Lu Han assumes from the way they touch, the way they kiss, the way they play around with a familiarity and ease born of comfortable intimacy. Not once does their conversation ever reveal anything useful, but Lu Han enjoys it too much to care. His dream-lover has a deep, rich voice, though hits far higher notes when he laughs, which is often. He's taller than Lu Han, though not enough to be problematic, and while the dreams seem to skip around in time, Lu Han gets the impression that there's a few years between them, with himself as the elder, based on the way the other guy sometimes looks to him for guidance.

Sometimes they walk the dogs through grassy fields - or are taken for walks by the dogs, more often than not. Sometimes they ride motorbikes into the night, either separately or together, one holding on tight to the other as they fly down the road. There are dreams of sharing messy, disorganised meals, neither of them having much skill in the kitchen but full of enthusiasm and willing to try almost any combination of ingredients.

And then there are the dreams that Lu Han can't explain away as being the fantasy romance of a lonely teenage boy. Watching his dream boyfriend learning to teleport is...not something he's ever thought about, useful though the skill might be. He only realises what's happening when his unknown other half vanishes from sight and reappears three feet to the left, looking both amazed and terrified, and promptly does it a second time. Over the course of several dreams, Lu Han watches him practise, sometimes ending up in unexpected locations or misjudging his abilities. Teleporting straight into a river is the safest of the mishaps; almost becoming part of a wall is one of the more calamitous, and it takes a while for them to calm down after that.

Not that either of them are truly 'calm' once the teleporting dreams begin. There seems to be an urgency, then - an impetus to master their skills as soon as possible.

Because puppy boy's not the only one with powers. Lu Han's right there beside him (until he teleports, anyway), moving furniture with a wave of his hand. At first he can only shift tiny objects, making coffee cups slide across the table or floating hats in the air, but as time moves on, so do his abilities. Trees bend themselves in two from the force of his will. Bricks stack themselves in perfect alignment. Chairs fly across the room, mostly landing where he wants them. It's a constant cycle of practice and rest. While Lu Han continues to enjoy his dreams, even when they become more like training exercises than welcome breaks from the grind of classes and exams, the more he sees of their powers, the more alarmed he becomes.

Telekinesis is his power in those _other_ dreams, the ones where he fights desperately against the mysterious red force to save a dying tree...and loses every time. He doesn't need to see how it ends to know that. The band of shadows draw nearer with each dream until they separate into distinct human figures: faceless, nameless, and just as helpless as Lu Han himself when it comes to protecting the tree. Alone they can do nothing.

_But together..._

\-----

"I teleported into a wall?" Jongin splutters.

It's not one of Lu Han's happier memories. "Nearly," he assures Jongin. "Only nearly. Your control improved a bit after that. If it makes you feel any better, I accidentally dropped a chair on myself once while trying to send it outside." Not one of his finer moments, admittedly, but a lot better than the time he'd tried to levitate himself and ended up falling flat on his face - and that memory, he's not sharing.

"Thanks." Jongin unbends enough to allow a smile to slip through, no doubt picturing Lu Han flailing beneath a chair. "I still haven't seen anything except that flash in the Gold Saucer. I wish I remembered more about how things were before."

"I don't." Lu Han hadn't intended to sound so forceful, but he's adamant about this. "I only have bits and pieces so I don't know much about how we lived before, but I think we've both led pretty different lives, this time around."

"I wish I could've seen the puppies," Jongin says sadly. "I always wanted some but we couldn't afford pets."

And his current lifestyle certainly doesn't lend itself to pet ownership, even if they weren't trying to stave off the apocalypse. "Save the world and maybe we can get puppies together," Lu Han says. "Somewhere." They can worry about the logistics later. If there _is_ a later.

He makes a mental note to himself that this is one suggestion he really has to remember in the future, assuming there is one, because Jongin brightens immediately, eyes sparkling as he thinks about acquiring puppies. "I'd like that."

Time spent with the dogs is one of the happier memories to relate. There are some things from their past that he wants to keep, such as the collar, and others where...well, he'd like to see what they can make of this without being haunted by the ghosts of their former selves. They have another shot together and he intends to make the most of it. (As much as he can, while living in another world.) They don't need to try to replicate what's gone before. This is who they are now.

It's different for Kris, he gets that. Kris doesn't feel that there's enough of him, in who he is now, and thinks that he can recapture what he's lost between lives. Lu Han's not so sure. He's thought that way himself on many an occasion, encouraging the others as they remember fragments from the past, but the more time he spends getting to know Jongin in this world, the more he wonders if they've really lost so much, after all.

"So would I," Lu Han says. He thinks maybe Jongin's unwound enough now not to withdraw if he tries to pay him a compliment. "You're cuter than any puppy, though."

Jongin whacks him on the shoulder, though only hard enough to smart, not bruise, which Lu Han takes as a good sign given that Jongin would have no trouble dishing out some serious damage if he were still fuming. "Stop trying to be charming."

"Who's trying?"

"Only a guy who's spending the night telling me about his high school crush."

"I had two of them, even if I didn't know your name yet," Lu Han says. "You said you wanted to hear my story. Minseok's a big part of that and I'm not going to pretend he's not important to me. He always will be."

He risks touching his fingers lightly to the deer on the collar Jongin wears, brushing over the leather and withdrawing before Jongin has time to react. "But he's never been _mine_."

\-----

"You're appearing in my dreams," Minseok says, one weekend in their final year when they're out in the city, sitting at a coffee shop near the presidential palace, and Lu Han chokes on his baguette. "Are you sure you don't have any magical abilities?"

Lu Han manages to gulp down the offending mouthful, glaring balefully across at his roommate until he's able to speak. "Couldn't you have waited until I didn't have my mouth full?"

"Sorry," Minseok says, sounding anything but. "Your mouth is always full when you're eating. I don't know how you're not constantly choking on your food."

So Lu Han's a fast - and enthusiastic - eater. He'd gotten into the habit to get himself out of the cafeteria at meals as soon as possible, and even after Minseok's arrival, he'd never managed to break it. "I definitely don't have any magic." He tries to keep his voice down. Their headmaster's at a nearby table with a couple of friends; they could do without him overhearing any talk of magic. He'd probably chalk it up to exam stress. Lu Han's seen worse, in the dorm. "Not here, and not there." They both know what he means by _there_. "But I had this dream the night you arrived..."

He tells Minseok about the crazy tree dream, and all the ones he's had since. He keeps those about his dream-lover to himself, though. In the years they've roomed together he's never explicitly confirmed or denied being attracted to guys in general, or Minseok in particular, and even if he's never made any effort to get to know the girls in their school better either, he still feels uncomfortable with the idea of describing his fantasy life. That's too private to share right now, and especially here.

Recognition settles on Minseok's face as Lu Han talks. "I've had dreams like that too. But I'm not using telekinesis. It's like when I'm summoned, only I don't say anything and the ice comes anyway. I freeze the red fog into crystals and the sky starts to clear."

"I push the fog away and it clears," Lu Han says glumly, "but it always comes back. I'm not strong enough to get rid of it all at once."

"Neither am I." Minseok takes a sip of his coffee. "I don't think it's possible to do it alone."

"So where do I come into this?"

"A couple of weeks ago, the dream changed, and some of the red fog was getting pushed away before I could freeze it. When I looked around, there was a shadow holding out his hands in front of him. I got closer; he morphed into you."

Previously, Lu Han would've been pleased to know that Minseok had dreamed about him. Now, however, he finds it creepy. Are they sharing dreams? Why else would they both imagine the same set of struggles against the red force?

"Your tree dreams started around the time you were first summoned, right?" he asks.

Minseok nods. "A few weeks before. I thought I was stressed out about something and trying to work it out in my sleep."

"Either it's nature's way of telling us we have to campaign to save the trees, or it's got something to do with our being summoned. It has to be!" Lu Han punctuates his sentence with such enthusiasm that he knocks his serviette to the floor.

Minseok, on whose side it's fallen, picks it up for him. He's done a lot of picking up after Lu Han, over the time they've been sharing a room. It's not that Lu Han's messy, exactly, only that Minseok has his own impossibly high standards and Lu Han's given up trying to match them. It would be easier if he didn't have so many other selves running around out there. The more orbs he has, the harder it is to keep them all separated, and his focus has been waning more than he - or his teachers - would like. He drops things at odd times and in odd places, finding them again afterwards and feeling like they only exist in someone else's memories. In the cafeteria Minseok carries both their trays, and when they're out like this, Lu Han always gets a paper or plastic cup. He doesn't trust himself around glasses and ceramics right now.

"I think we can rule out someone trying to turn us into environmental crusaders," Minseok says. "That's not really where I see my life going."

"Where _do_ you see it going?" Lu Han's curious. This is their final year of high school and in theory, all the students know what they're doing afterwards. In practice, well...

He hasn't been home even once since starting school. There are enough students aiming to be amongst the world's elite that even during the holidays, extra classes and sports training camps are run for those who want to stay, and Lu Han's been using that as his excuse for years. His parents don't care, as long as his grades remain high, and he figures there's not much for him in Deling City now. Less than there is in Esthar, in fact, because here, he has Minseok, who hasn't returned home either, citing the expense of the journey as his reason for not going back to see his parents and younger sister in Dollet, though he does talk to them often and from what Lu Han can tell, is much closer to them than Lu Han is to his own parents.

So once they graduate, Lu Han can't see himself going home. Unfortunately, he can't see himself going anywhere else, either, and the school's guidance counsellor keeps threatening to wash her hands of him. It's not his fault he can't tell her why he's so reluctant to plan the next phase of his life - any mention of his career as a Summon, which is sadly unpaid and not going to support him, will only ensure he goes straight from high school to an asylum. But he's not at all sure he can make it through university like this, and trying to hold down a job could be worse, especially since he'd be doing it all without the only person who can cover for him.

"Same place as you, I think." Minseok smiles, shaking his head. "Nowhere."

"Want to go nowhere together?" Lu Han offers, trying to sound less serious than he intends; a joke between friends. "I hear it's better with company."

Minseok is infuriatingly non-committal. "I'll let you know."

It's going to be a major problem for them before long, with their teachers wanting them to pick out their next steps and encouraging them to explore their options - none of which are feasible options at all, for two young men who spend so much of their time divided between worlds. Still, Lu Han opts not to let it spoil his afternoon. The sun is shining, the food - what he's managed to eat of it so far - is good, and he's with the only person in the world who'd be caught dead having lunch with him. He can't complain about that.

His complaint, such as it is, is that almost every other table for two in the coffee shop is occupied by an obvious couple, all of them male-female pairings of some description (though there's a pair of girls in the back gazing longingly at each other that he's not too sure about, also), and watching them hold hands over the tablecloths, or cuddle in booths, reminds him that while he has an extremely active fantasy life, his real life is a lot less exciting. He's never kissed anyone, never held anyone in a way that wasn't technically platonic. Raging teenage hormones don't help, and neither does having a roommate. Especially when said roommate has only become all the more attractive as he's matured, a development which has frustrated Lu Han no end. It's not so much that he thinks anything will happen with Minseok, only that it's not happening with anyone else, either, and he doesn't have much time alone to deal with pent-up urges.

They're almost always together, just in case, so privacy is a precious commodity not easily obtained. Sometimes Lu Han touches himself while Minseok's in the shower, always quiet, always quick, and if Minseok notices that there are more used tissues in the bin when he returns than when he left, he never says anything. Lu Han used to think about Minseok, then, but lately he's been picturing his dream-lover more and more, imagining those long, tanned fingers wrapping around him, stroking him to completion. Or maybe tangling one hand in fluffy brown hair as he slips between those deliciously plump lips. His imagination is only limited by his lack of knowledge, and it's not knowledge he's going to acquire here, that's for certain.

_But in that other world..._

They haven't seen much in the way of civilisation over there. One of Lu Han's masters tells him that the monsters don't often attack the towns, which is why they're usually summoned outdoors. He's seen plenty of forests and beaches, open fields and mountain crags, but few buildings and fewer people. He's sure there has to be more to see, and despite the constraints that come with being at the beck and call of complete strangers, he feels almost more comfortable over there, free to present himself any way he pleases. No one will know any better. He can be as smooth as he wants - a confident young warrior, unafraid to take on any challenge, and not an awkward, outcast student with no idea what to do with his life. Neither side is a fake...and Minseok's the only person who's seen both.

They don't share a master anymore. The whip-wielder passed him to her friend, a short, bubbly girl who fights monsters with her nunchaku, and Lu Han hasn't seen Minseok over there since. They trade stories about how cool they are in battle instead, knowing they can exaggerate as much as they like. That's okay. They've got a good grip on what they're doing now, for all that they still have no clue _why_ they're doing it. Lu Han wonders if he'll be stuck as a Summon for the rest of his life, if he'll keep acquiring more and more orbs until he can do nothing but concentrate on controlling them all, leaving nothing for himself because he'll be spread so thin.

He hopes not, but if they keep going like this, they won't learn anything about why it's happening to them. They have to be more adventurous, he decides. Mostly, their masters don't talk to them, and when they do, it's never as though they're human beings. Dangerous pets, perhaps. There are a few, however, who don't seem to mind when Lu Han drops his _mystical warrior_ routine and makes a stab at conversation before he has to disappear. The nunchaku girl is nice. Maybe he can start with her, next time she summons him. Even if she doesn't know why he and Minseok are somehow tied to materia orbs in her world, she should at least be able to give him more information about their surroundings.

He's getting better at picking up details when not yet summoned, though. Never visuals, and sounds are somewhat muffled by the materia, but he can sense the presence of people moving around him as though he were in a room with them, ever-so-slightly out of reach. For instance, right now if he concentrates on the orb equipped in nunchaku, he can tell that the weapon is stationary. Probably inside a building somewhere, because the air is relatively still and there's a steady warmth he doesn't associate with the outdoors. That makes it less likely he'll be summoned any time soon.

Lu Han switches more of his focus, desperate to glean any scraps of information he can. He mentally pushes against the tight metal band encasing his orb...

...and lands on a tatami floor in a strange bedroom, all the breath knocked out of him. He sits up, rubbing his bruised elbow, and looks about him. His master definitely didn't call him out. She's fast asleep, curled up on a futon, with her weapon resting on a low table nearby. There's no danger here, only beautiful silk screens and wall hangings of careful calligraphy, everything in black and white and red, illuminated by small rounded lamps.

Lu Han's obviously not needed. He could go back...or he could open the sliding doors and creep out into the corridor, which is exactly what he does. He's not wearing his armour, having been taken by surprise, so he's wearing the T-shirt and jeans his 'real' body is wearing back home - much easier for sneaking around. Some of the other doors are slightly ajar so he peeks in. All the rooms are furnished the same way, with futons laid out on tatami mats but no real personal touches. A hotel, he assumes. He won't learn much here.

There's a man on duty near the front door, more interested in the pages of his book than who comes and goes, so Lu Han slips outside. It's dark, though early enough for the streets to be filled with people still, all lit up with lanterns strung between the buildings. Lu Han presses himself back against the wall of the hotel, drinking in the sights in the warm evening air while trying not to get trampled by passing pedestrians. The buildings here are like nothing he's ever seen back home, with roofs rising up in steep slopes until they meet in a long ridge, never more than two storeys high and decorated with signs bearing smaller roofs of their own. The village is built around a river; small red bridges connect each patch of land to its neighbour, and walls of rock and red gates act as safety barriers next to the water. Tall, ominous mountains loom over the landscape, and in the distance a five-storey pagoda rises from the middle of a forest.

People-watching occupies Lu Han for a time - so many of them are carrying oversized shuriken and heading for the mountains that he wonders if danger is imminent. Perhaps he's here to fight after all.

But no monsters descend from the mountains, and eventually Lu Han decides to make the most of his unexpected trip before he's forced to return to his orb. He needs to hear people talk, if he's to learn anything, and standing around outside as they walk past won't do. He crosses one of the many small bridges to reach a pub, _Turtle's Paradise_ , which has a large, slightly soused-looking turtle ornament mounted over the doorway. The sign outside claims they have the best selection in Wutai. That must be where he is. _Wutai_.

He tries to act casual as he enters the pub. Back home, he's too young to get away with ordering alcohol, and even if he were old enough his face would probably prove to be an impediment. Here, no one pays him any heed, too absorbed in their own affairs. He's surprised to see the prices listed behind the bar are in gil. They have the same currency, it seems. His wallet's in his jeans pocket. He could try to buy himself a drink, maybe. If it turns out that their gil and his gil are nothing alike, he can always vanish.

He walks up to the bar like he's old enough to have graduated a decade ago, intending to order a beer, but somehow the bartender's menacing stare has him backing down until he feels like he's going to sink right through the floorboards. He manages to squeak out an order for soda, relief washing over him when the coin he hands over isn't immediately thrown back in his face. If he's going to get tossed out of a pub, it should at least be for something better than passing bad currency.

Drinking with this body feels no different to drinking with his regular body, though he'd thought it might. The bubbles go up his nose, the way they always do; there's a mild, pleasant burn as the liquid runs down his throat. It only hammers home the fact that while his bodies might be separate, all capable of being controlled independently, they are, ultimately, all the same person.

And that person is startled when a tall, pale girl with long black hair and a warm smile sits down on the next stool at the bar. She looks older than the girls in his school, maybe early twenties, though her make-up impairs his ability to accurately guess her age. Older than him, at any rate, and she carries herself with an easy confidence that he often finds hard to come by. The bartender places a drink in front of her without a word, not even to charge her. She thanks him, then turns her smile on Lu Han.

He's not used to that. What if she talks to him? What's he supposed to say? He doesn't even live in this world, let alone in this village. He shouldn't be here. He should go, now, and try again later when he's worked out some sort of cover story.

\-----

"Uh..." Lu Han trails off, realising just in time that he's taking his tale places that Jongin could do without hearing. There are things Jongin wants to know about his life, and then there are things to which Jongin would really rather not be privy, and Lu Han mentally chides himself for forgetting the difference. Jongin doesn't want to hear about how the girl had been one of several working out of the back rooms at the pub, about how she'd taught him to give pleasure to someone other than himself, and how good it could feel to be touched by someone else. He'd hadn't had quite enough cash on him to afford her fees, but she'd jokingly offered him a 'student discount' since it was his first time, and he'd wanted to learn everything she'd been prepared to teach.

Jongin's giving him an appraising look, eyes narrowing as he speculates on what might've happened next. "So you managed to show up here without anyone summoning you-"

"...Yeah."

"And then you met a strange girl in a bar."

"She was sweet," Lu Han says defensively. "And it was the first time I'd visited your world without having to kill anything."

"First time for something else too?" Jongin guesses, and Lu Han nods silently, surprised by how embarrassed he feels. "It's okay. I know it happened. I just...don't want to hear about it."

Knowing what he does of Jongin's past, Lu Han's pretty sure he wouldn't want to hear about Jongin's first time either. "You can fill in the blanks for yourself," he says. "I wasn't...I wasn't expecting that to happen, the first time I managed to send myself to your world without being summoned. I got more practice after that."

Jongin flushes: whether it's with embarrassment or irritation, Lu Han can't tell. "You can skip that part."

"I meant practice coming here," Lu Han says. "I started exploring more by myself. Minseok tried to do it too, but he couldn't. None of the others can."

He'd seen tiny villages like Kalm, and big cities like Midgar, and all sorts of places in between, trying to time his visits when his orbs were stationary so there would be a good chance his masters were at rest. He hadn't always managed to catch them asleep - he'd surprised them a few times, giving unhelpful answers when queried. Some of them were good about it, assuming that if they hadn't called him, it was none of their business what he did with his time so long as he still fought for them.

Others...well, Lu Han's become quite skilled, over the years, at manoeuvring his orbs without ever being able to touch them himself. When he wants to move on, he finds thieves, or those desperate enough to become so for the reward of a Summon materia, and tells them where his orb might be found. Not all his masters are kind, and those who would treat him badly soon find that a Summon who refuses to fight to protect them is not worth keeping. He can't turn his sword upon them - he's tried, especially on those who'd use his body for something other than a weapon.

Some of them are polite enough to make the offer, and before meeting Jongin, he'd occasionally taken them up on it, indulging his curiosity in ways he couldn't back home with men as well as women. He'd found the men slightly more to his taste, though with the turns his dreams had taken, he hadn't been too surprised. He'd told Minseok, because there was no hiding his change of mood from his roommate, but Minseok had never said whether or not he'd been inclined to do the same, and Lu Han had never asked.

"That's because you're just weird."

"I think you meant to say _special_ ," Lu Han says. "Besides, it means I get to see you more often."

"I guess if I had more of your orbs, you'd be able to stay with me all the time, taking it in turns to pop out."

Lu Han's never actually considered that. Jongin only has four materia slots, one of which is occupied by Kyungsoo, and he's only able to materialise when the orbs are equipped in one of his master's possessions. Toting around a sack of Summon materia is hardly a workable plan. "I'm always with you, whether I'm physically present or not. You can always talk to me in here." He taps the side of Jongin's head with his index finger.

"And your other masters? Do you talk to them telepathically too?"

There it is again, that faint hint of jealousy in Jongin's tone that still makes Lu Han marvel at their finding each other in not one but two separate lifetimes. "Only you," he assures Jongin. "I didn't even realise it was possible until I started picking up pieces of your thoughts the first time you summoned me. I thought maybe I could make it work both ways, and I was right."

Half of what Lu Han knows, he's learned from guessing and taking chances. He doesn't tell Jongin that he made him try teleportation on a hunch, though, figuring that a confession of reckless endangerment is probably not something he needs to hear. It's all in the past, now, where it's not worth fighting about.

"I'm glad you don't always know what I'm thinking."

"That would be an invasion of privacy."

Lu Han's been through boarding school; he knows what it's like to have no choice over who shares his space. Not that rooming with Minseok had been a great ordeal, even if it had sometimes tested his willpower. Nevertheless, there are times when it's essential to be alone, even if it's just for a few minutes to try to organise stray thoughts without anyone around to interrupt, and Lu Han reckons Jongin could, if he wanted, see into Lu Han's mind the way Lu Han sees into his.

But Jongin prefers to talk in person, though Lu Han knows he enjoys the reassurance that the link is always there, connecting the two of them across the gap dividing their respective worlds. Lu Han affords him the courtesy of never digging too deep, making use of the connection more to send his own thoughts than to skim the surface of Jongin's mind. (Although he does try to keep a constant vigil, just in case Jongin needs him but hasn't called him out. Baekhyun accuses him of being overprotective but he justifies it by pointing out that they need all twelve of them alive, and that's not going to happen if Jongin gets himself killed by being too stubborn to summon help.)

"So chivalrous, even when you're not wearing the armour," Jongin says mockingly.

"I did go to an elite high school, I'll have you know."

"And afterwards? It didn't sound like opening a bookshop was high on your list of things to do after graduation."

"Well," Lu Han says, "we didn't exactly open it. Minseok has this aunt..."

\-----

"You still don't have any plans for next year, do you?" Minseok asks, a little over a month before graduation. He's been distracted all afternoon, caught up in reading and re-reading a message from his aunt, so Lu Han's been giving him space. It doesn't seem like it's bad news, but he thinks it's the polite thing to do anyway. If Minseok wants to talk about it, he'll do it in his own time.

"Not really." Lu Han sighs, mashing his pillow into a more comfortable shape. "I suppose I'll have to go home, at least for a while. Try get a job, build up some savings..." He doesn't even bring up the prospect of university. The thought of trying to keep his attention on lectures is too daunting to contemplate - not that trying to focus in a job would be any easier. He definitely can't do anything involving breakables or delicacy, which rules out a lot of service industry roles, and loath as he is to admit it, he's never filled out enough to make a decent career of manual work. Paperwork's safest. The worst he can do is accidentally give himself a papercut, right? Maybe walk into a desk or two.

"I think I have plans now," Minseok says, and Lu Han's heart gives a little leap in his chest. Minseok's still his only real friend - best friend and roommate, but nothing more, because Lu Han never tells him, and as time has passed his crush has faded into a warm, comfortable weight inside his heart, to be treasured and kept alive by a million tiny words and gestures, a gentle hearthfire never to be stoked to an inferno. It's enough. Their classmates probably think they're together anyway, inseparable as they are. To the best of Lu Han's knowledge Minseok's not been pursuing girls either, although he charms them enough that the other guys in their year don't give him grief for it; all Minseok will say, when Lu Han asks him about it, is that he's got enough on his mind, between their otherworldly adventures and final exams, without adding relationships into the mix.

Whether Minseok's even interested in girls - or anyone at all - Lu Han has no idea, and now he never will, because Minseok's going to go away, going to walk out of his life forever, and then he'll only have his dreams for company.

"I'm...happy for you." Lu Han knows he sounds stilted and unconvincing, yet Minseok's smiling at him. _Why?_

"And I think you should come with me."

"What? Where?"

"My aunt Eunju has a bookshop back in Dollet," Minseok explains. "She wants it to stay in the family, but she doesn't have any kids of her own, so she's asked if I'd like to come work for her and take over when she retires. You should come too. Her assistant's leaving to have a baby so she could do with the extra help." His smile fades when Lu Han doesn't respond. "I thought we should stick together. You know, so we can cover for each other, like we do now."

Lu Han's never been to Dollet. He knows nothing about it, except that it's by the sea and popular with the tourists. He'd be starting all over again, in a strange place, working for someone he's never met...and he'd get to stay close to his best friend. Or he could go home, to his disappointed parents, and try to find a way to strike out on his own. It's an easy decision to make.

"I think," Lu Han says, sitting up on his bed and grinning at his roommate, "that you should tell me more about Dollet."

Minseok does so with relish, pulling up photos on his computer to show Lu Han the latest pictures of the bookshop, sent today by his aunt, and talks eagerly about his hometown. About his favourite coffee shop, across the way from his aunt's place, which he thinks Lu Han will love. About the beautiful fountain in the square between them, with its barrow of fresh flowers, and the harbour where Minseok used to sit and watch the boats as a kid. They're old enough to take the boats out now themselves, he says, or to learn to drive down Dollet's cobbled streets.

Dollet sounds quaint and pretty, more low-key than darkly elegant Deling City, or gleaming, high-powered Esthar. Minseok's face is so animated as he describes it, every word spoken with love, and Lu Han wonders, if he loves it so much, why he hasn't been home. The journey isn't cheap, true, but one trip in three years isn't so much to spend.

"You've talked me into it," Lu Han says, as if there were ever any doubt.

"My aunt lives above the shop," Minseok says. His excitement is catching. "She's got spare rooms, so we can live there rent-free, and she has all these arrangements with people for stuff. It's not...I know it's nothing fancy, or special, and your parents are probably going to accuse you of settling when you should be aiming higher, but-"

"My parents will be disappointed in me no matter what I do, but it's my life," Lu Han says firmly. "And maybe in the future I'll want something else, but right now this plan sounds _perfect_."

"I'm glad you think that, because there's another reason you should come to Dollet." The sparkle in Minseok's eyes softens to quiet sympathy. "I told you once that things are different there. Dollet is...not like Esthar, or anywhere else I know. It's a tourist town, it's a lot more laidback, nobody cares what you do - or who you do it with. If you date a guy, no one's going to give you stick for it. Not like here."

For a moment, Lu Han wonders if this is Minseok's way of telling him that his feelings are reciprocated, and that by going to Dollet they can be together in the way he's wanted for years.

But...Minseok's more forthright than that. When he has something to say to Lu Han, he says it straight out. They're comfortable enough with each other to be honest even when it's painful. Lu Han would already know if Minseok returned his feelings - would've known a long time ago, and maybe that's why this doesn't feel like a rejection. Too much time has passed. Lu Han's crush simmers gently, never quite forgotten, but never reaching boiling point, either. They're already close in all the ways that work for them; Lu Han would rather treasure that precious relationship as it is than risk it by blurting out what Minseok probably already knows.

"I'll bear that in mind," he says, drymouthed. It doesn't matter in the other world, he's seen that, but he's having a hard time picturing anywhere in his own where he doesn't have to feel like he's doing something wrong by even thinking about pursuing a relationship that will never lead to having children. Dollet's going to be a fresh start for him, and he just hopes things will work out.

Graduation's a lonely affair for both of them - neither of their families attend the ceremony, so the school is filled with the relations of all their classmates and no one notices when the two of them sneak off by themselves. They change out of their gowns and hit the shops, picking out souvenirs for Minseok's family (they'll be staying with them for the first night and Lu Han wants to be a polite guest) and taking a few final photos of the city of Esthar. Lu Han makes bunny ears behind a statue of some general or other while wearing one of a pair of matching furry hats he'd picked out for them in the shop, and Minseok captures it with his camera. Minseok dons his own hat and climbs up on one of the skyway barriers, something Lu Han's fear of heights would never allow him to do, making a cute pose with double victory signs.

The pictures are dumb, and playful, and as much a celebration of the end of their high school days and the start of a new era as any official graduation ceremony.

They leave the next morning for Dollet, taking the train across the Horizon Bridge, and then a ship to the Galbadian continent. When they dock at Dollet, the sun's already setting and Lu Han's first glimpse of the harbour warms his heart. People sit at the cafés along the wharf, watching the sky change colour: families together, friends laughing and joking, couples snuggling in seats made for two. There's no distinction between them, no one shooting disapproving glares when two teenage boys kiss over their cake, no one telling the two women holding hands as they walk that they ought not to do such things and should be settling down with men instead.

Lu Han stops in the middle of the path, tightening his grip on his suitcase until his knuckles are white around the handle. He can't tear his gaze away. Surely any moment now, someone will say something? The boys will be ejected from the café; the women will be approached by men looking to 'convert' them. He knows how the world works. Why should Dollet be any different just because it's a popular tourist destination?

"Relax," Minseok murmurs when it's clear that Lu Han's not going to move of his own volition. "I told you it was different here. You'll see."

"I know, I know, it's just..." Lu Han takes a deep breath, tries to forget that the world outside Dollet exists so he can look at the scene objectively. It's not easy. He feels like a target, even though he's not doing anything. It's like everyone who looks at him can see where he's been, what he's done, how he feels.

"We can go over and talk to them if you want?" Minseok offers. "That guy on the left lives across the street from me. I don't think he'd mind being interrupted if you explained that you wanted to ask him if he felt persecuted."

Minseok's joking, Lu Han thinks, but it's enough to get his thoughts back on track. If Dollet were like the rest of the world, those boys wouldn't be kissing in public in the first place. They'd be hiding away, scared and ashamed, not daring to let others see them like that. He shakes his head, relaxing his grip on his suitcase handle again.

Minseok puts his free arm around Lu Han's shoulders and nudges him gently down the path. "Then let's go home."

'Home' is wonderful. Minseok's family don't ask any awkward questions about why Lu Han's here with them, and not forging a new life for himself elsewhere. They want to know all about Esthar's fabulous technology, and how Minseok measures up on the football pitch, and would Lu Han like to come out back and feed the ducks? And then of course the embarrassing childhood photos have to come out, making not only Minseok but his sister cringe. By the time Lu Han goes to bed, full of home-cooked food and laughter, he feels like he's been adopted. His own house has never been this warm, this inviting.

Exhausted from a full day of travelling, they don't try to stay awake and talk. Lu Han sleeps on a futon on Minseok's bedroom floor, so relaxed that he doesn't even care when he acquires an entirely new orb in the middle of the night.

The next day it all begins. Minseok's mother makes them a hearty breakfast, because she says they should have at least one decent meal before they have to cook for themselves (cooking is not, Minseok says, his aunt's strong point), and tells Lu Han he's welcome to come over whenever he wants. The bookshop is only a twenty minute walk away, or will be once Lu Han learns his way around.

It's a pleasant journey, even with luggage. Lu Han's had his parents send his things from back home directly to the shop, so when they arrive he'll have another case to unpack. Minseok's carrying a couple of cases of his own, which he promptly drops when his aunt emerges from the shop and flings her arms around him. She lets go when he starts gasping for air.

"Lu Han, meet my aunt Eunju," Minseok gasps, clutching his throat. "Watch out for her hugs."

Lu Han does, though he doesn't actually receive one until he's been there a month and successfully sells a dry, hard-to-move volume of poetry to a starry-eyed teenage girl. Kim Eunju is friendly, though a demanding boss, and she gives them the morning to unpack and settle in before she starts showing them the ropes. He shares a room with Minseok again, because Eunju has the other bedroom and says she's not converting her study just so they can have their own rooms. Sharing won't be a problem, they assure her. They've lived in closer quarters than this, even with the twin beds taking up so much of the floor space, and Eunju says they can decorate however they want as long as it doesn't involve knocking down any walls. That'll take time and they can plan it out later. For now, they put their things away and explore the apartment, learning where all the most useful things are in the kitchen (and how Eunju takes her coffee).

A lady from the deli next door comes in mid-morning to find out if they want to add their names to the shop's sandwich delivery order. One of the baristas from across the street pops over on his lunchbreak to welcome Minseok back to town and give him one of their newly-designed loyalty cards. (He has to go back to get another one for Lu Han.) Everyone's friendly, treating Lu Han as if he's always lived here and Minseok as though he's never been away.

Even Minseok's aunt, who knows better, and when she introduces Lu Han to her girlfriend (the lady from the deli, as it turns out), she warns him beforehand, because she knows where he's from and doesn't want any attitude from him. Lu Han's surprised but not offended - Deling City doesn't have the best reputation when it comes to dealing with women who like other women, and they have it worse than the men. He assures her she's got nothing to worry about from him without explaining why, though he thinks she gets it anyway, because after that she keeps pushing him to serve all the cute male college students who come in to buy books.

He flirts with them a little, sometimes - the girls too - but mostly he's friendly with everyone, settling into his new life more easily than he could ever have imagined. Perhaps because in his other lives, nothing really changes. He and Minseok acquire more orbs, and fight battles, and keep dreaming about a dying tree. Lu Han continues to make his unsummoned jaunts and to see his dream-lover, eventually confessing to Minseok about him one night when Minseok actually shakes him awake because he thinks Lu Han's moaning in pain. Embarrassing, but Minseok's nice enough - or sleepy enough - not to tease him about it, and suggests that maybe those dreams are related to everything else, since they only started after the summonings began and feature Lu Han with the power of telekinesis.

Lu Han likes that idea, that maybe the puppy guy is one of the faceless shadows working with him to protect the tree and he'll show himself properly when the time is right. Minseok has, now. There are ten shadows left, sometimes shaped like humans, but sometimes there are animals too and Lu Han's not sure if they're the same. If he can meet Minseok here, and in the other world, and in his dreams, then perhaps he'll meet those other ten, too, even if he has no idea what it's all leading up to. It's enough to keep him from actively pursuing romances in Dollet; he already has one, albeit only in his dreams, and if they should somehow one day come true...

He tries not to concern himself too much about it while he's learning everything Eunju has to teach him. He hadn't realised how much paperwork was involved in running a bookshop. Eunju mostly watches them, only stepping in if it looks like they're going to screw things up beyond repair, and she seems satisfied with their progress. Lu Han finds it easier to focus here, even when he's fighting a dozen battles at once, though he still gets a reputation for being clumsy and refuses to use ceramic mugs. Minseok's worse, when he loses focus, but has fewer orbs so it doesn't happen to him as much.

Still, the odd broken mug aside, matters progress smoothly and before they know it, more than a year has passed. Eunju spends her time poring over maps with her girlfriend, marking out locations of interest and discussing means of transport. Lu Han thinks perhaps they're planning a holiday.

He's partially right. It's a world tour, to see everything from the Grandidi Forest to the Centra Ruins, and Eunju doesn't know when they'll be back. And even when she returns, she says, she's not coming back to the bookshop. She's leaving it to Minseok. (To Lu Han too, she adds, but technically, the business belongs to Minseok. It's his inheritance and she's trusting him not to drive it into the ground.) Between the students and the tourists business is okay, if not brisk, and if Minseok's aunt thinks they're ready to make a go of it themselves, they're willing to try.

\-----

"And that's how we ended up with a bookshop," Lu Han finishes.

"Mmmm." Jongin's looking decidedly droopy. They've been out here for a long time, sitting relatively still; to be honest, Lu Han's surprised Jongin's not already fallen asleep. He can't be far off, though.

"You've had a long bedtime story," Lu Han says. "I think it's time you went back up to your room, don't you?"

Jongin shakes himself awake with partial success, rubbing his eyes. "It wasn't a very happy story."

"I never said it would be, but you asked me for the truth."

"I did." Jongin smiles sleepily. "Even if some of your memories are horrible, I'm glad you shared them."

"The parts with you were the best," Lu Han whispers at him, and when Jongin lets his head fall to rest on Lu Han's shoulder, Lu Han knows they're all right now. Jongin's heard the best and the worst he's got to offer and he's still here, not storming off upstairs alone, not throwing Lu Han's materia orb into the heart of the Cosmo Candle.

Lu Han works an arm around Jongin and pushes them both to their feet, wobbling a little from sitting for so long. He's not sure how much longer he can stay out; hopefully he won't have to vanish before he manages to get Jongin to bed. He doesn't trust him to navigate the stairs by himself. They stagger away from the Cosmo Candle, up to the Shildra Inn, where Jongdae has left the nightlight on low in the room he and Jongin are sharing tonight. Jongdae's fast asleep, covers pulled up to his chin.

Jongin had been in bed when Kris had dragged him out for a group meeting, so he's already dressed in a tank top and shorts for sleep. It doesn't take much prodding to have him lie down on the mattress. Lu Han would leave him, then, but Jongin clutches his hand, tugging him towards the bed. They're both tired, and Jongdae's in the room, so it's not like anything's going to happen, but opportunities to simply curl up with Jongin have been all too infrequent of late. Lu Han slips in beside him, instantly warmed by a sleepy Jongin pressing himself close.

It's strange snuggling with someone else in the room. Not that Jongdae would have much to say about it, Lu Han thinks. The others know and don't care, and that makes this so much easier than anything Lu Han's told Jongin about tonight. All the confusion, and fear, and shame...all pieces he's left behind in the past, where they can't touch him anymore. He's no longer a lonely schoolboy in Esthar, wondering what he's done to make his classmates dislike him. He's not the wide-eyed young man who moved to Dollet, either - the one who couldn't quite believe at first that it was okay to be himself. He's not the oldest of the group and he probably can't claim to be the most mature, but he thinks he might have grown the most.

He'll have to go soon, but at this rate Jongin will fall asleep first. Maybe Lu Han can even catch a brief nap himself. His hands stroke Jongin's back; he can't spare one to reach for the nightlight so it stays lit, its gentle glow providing comfort and sanctuary that they'll lose when they leave Cosmo Canyon - but for tonight, they're safe, and it's okay to cuddle under the covers in peace.


End file.
